Putting Out Fires
by Carys Langley
Summary: AU, TezukaFuji/ Fuji learns the hard way that it's probably not very smart to give Tezuka detention. A student/teacher romance inevitably ensues.
1. Chapter 1

**Putting Out Fires**

AU, TezukaFuji/ Fuji learns the hard way that it's probably not smart to give Tezuka detention.

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**A/N: **The latest chapters of My Brother's Keeper and Lost Fantasies will be up very soon, they're just undergoing some revisions. Meanwhile, I decided that I needed to experiment and chose a bad boy Tezuka as my theme. Somehow it warped into a student/teacher romance and I just couldn't help myself. Hopefully, it is not too cliche, but if it is, feel free to say so. Enjoy!

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"We all try to be patient with him, Syusuke. We really do. His parents died in a tragic car accident and he lives alone with his grandfather. A kind man, but he can't do much." Ryuzaki Sumire, Principal, reminded Fuji of a woman who refused to meet the limits that came with age. "We'd throw him out if we could…but you know, his parents were such outstanding alumni of Seishun, and his grandfather contributes to the school annually."

He was twenty-three, she was somewhere around sixty, if he pushed his luck, Fuji Syusuke knew she could have been old enough to be his grandmother. Perhaps that was the reason her logic was lost on him. He tapped his knuckles thoughtfully on her antique walnut desk.

"So what? You're telling me because Tezuka Kunimitsu lives with his grandfather and you're afraid to throw him out because the school would go bankrupt that I can't give him detention?" Fuji could hardly believe his ears. "The nurse says that Oishi-kun's wrist was fractured. _Fractured_. Even in a fist fight, such an injury is uncommon." He repeated the word severely.

She seemed to shrink a little. "…It's just…none of the other teachers have ever given him detention…even when…he gets—well," She tried to come up with a kinder word and failed, "…violent…or otherwise. You've only been here a month, Syusuke, that, and you're young. You have to understand the way things are around here, some things are simply not done."

"So you let him push other kids around, with no consequences whatsoever." Fuji couldn't help but stare, Seishun Gakuen was famed for being a good school all around. But there were unbelievable people everywhere.

Ryuzaki looked decidedly abashed, "…You have to understand, Syusuke, he is also the pillar of our renowned tennis team, he's been undisputed captain all three years…he's the reason we're like this today."

Fuji pushed back his chair, "Tezuka-kun will still have to serve detention with me from four to six-thirty today. If you'll excuse me."

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Fuji let himself in Classroom 3A and perched himself at the edge of the desk. He had expected the classroom to be empty, but there he was, at his corner desk near the window, idly smoking a cigarette. He had his English textbook out, and appeared to be reading. Fuji was inclined to believe otherwise. He thought he heard Principal Ryuzaki say that this kid was top of the tennis club…the oh, so _renowned_ tennis club, the reason why they were like this today. And yet the kid was sitting here smoking a cigarette. It didn't compute in his head, somehow.

"You can't smoke in here." Fuji said.

No answer.

"Does your grandfather know you smoke? Better yet, does your tennis coach know?" Fuji tried again, feeling more than slightly unnerved at this point. Maybe Principal Ryuzaki had a point. But he pushed that thought aside and set his chin.

Still no answer.

Fuji hopped off the desk and walked to the desk, though he reminded himself of poor Oishi and braced himself. He drew in a deep breath, and reached out to pluck the cigarette out of the boy's mouth. Tezuka let him. Fuji almost dropped the joint, but he stubbed it out quickly enough with the heel of his shoe.

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Five o' clock. Tezuka lit another cigarette. Fuji thought about stopping him, and then decided against it. But then, after another long moment, he realized that that was probably how all the teachers probably thought. If you left the problem alone, it would go away.

He put down the novel he would currently half reading, and marched over to Tezuka's desk again. He plucked the cigarette from the boy's lips like before, but not before Tezuka managed to turn to him and blow a lungful of smoke at him.

Fuji quickly turned his face and stamped out the joint like before. He raised his eyes once more after tossing the burnt out cigarette across the room into the trash with a _ping_.

He didn't look like a resident 'bad boy' would look. Fuji noticed, as he took in Tezuka fully for the very first time. He had a neatly pressed uniform that was cleaner than average, his hair was clean, and wasn't tinted or tainted by loud highlights that seemed to be so popular these days. He had glasses, thin lenses that made him look decidedly intellectual.

Fuji wasn't about to fall for the illusions that this picture gave him. It fooled everyone else, he knew. But not him, he tilted his head and smiled, "…Question for you, Tezuka-_kun_. Has anyone ever told you you're incredibly rude?"

Dark eyes met his, and for a moment, Fuji had the fleeting feeling that he had bitten off more than he could chew. "Some, on occasion." Was the unexpected, monotonous answer he received.

Fuji hesitated a moment, and then pressed on, "Doesn't it upset you at all?"

Tezuka gave a cough that could have been a very rude snort, but then, Fuji realized that he could have just easily have been paranoid. "Of course." 'What are you, stupid?' was obviously implied by the subtle edge in his voice.

"Is that why you hit Oishi-kun today? Because he upset you?" Fuji made himself comfortable, perching on the desk across from Tezuka's own.

"No, that was simply to prove a point." Tezuka looked at him, an icy cold glare that made Fuji wince. Tezuka opened his mouth again, to say something else, but took to rummaging his various pockets instead. Fuji lost interest when the boy drew out a pack of cigarettes.

"You can't smoke in here." Fuji said again, though he knew his order would fall on deaf ears.

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Five-thirty. Tezuka was tired of smoking. Fuji knew it by the way the joint rolled listlessly between the boy's long fingers. To his surprise, Tezuka stubbed out the cigarette on his own and stared at it. When he spoke, Fuji glanced up once more from his novel.

"Most of my friends do lines and stand against the wall while the teachers yell at them." Tezuka said. "Aren't you going to do that, _sensei_?" That same bite, that made him wince before, but this time Fuji stilled himself.

Fuji turned a page to hide a vague smirk that had come to his lips, "…Saa, no, actually. I don't like yelling. And I'm too tired to think of a sentence; but you're very welcome to stand against the wall, if you feel like it."

Tezuka's eyes narrowed. "Isn't detention supposed to imply some form of punishment?"

"I _am_ punishing you." Fuji smiled sweetly, "I'm going to bore you to death. That's your punishment." He glanced pointedly at the clock, "You get to sit here, and do nothing, for another hour. Enjoy it."

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Six o' clock. Tezuka Kunimitsu stared down at his desk, memorizing every groove and nick that was on the surface of the scratched wood. That was all that was left to do, except breathe, and smoke. But he had run out of cigarettes. He was inwardly seething. Although his face remained stonily impassive, a feat that took years upon years of practice.

Everyone had warned him that the new English teacher for the seniors wasn't to be reckoned with. And so it probably wasn't a good idea to fracture Oishi's wrist in Fuji-sensei's class. But what was done was done.

He touched a hand to his glasses, and glanced towards the clock, it seemed that the minute hand hadn't moved at all. "…Detention usually ends at six in Sanada-sensei's class, Inui told me." He said. Sanada was the chemistry teacher, and most of Inui's 'accidents' occurred in that class, hence detention.

Fuji-sensei turned a page of his noticeably English paperback and said, without looking at him, "…I'm not Sanada-sensei, Tezuka-kun. If I say six-thirty, then you sit there like a good boy until six-thirty."

Fuji-sensei was utterly infuriating, Tezuka realized for the millionth time that hour.

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Six-fifteen. Tezuka took off his glasses to wipe them. He put them back on. "Why do I have to stay until six-thirty?" He asked, finally, still staring determinedly at the grooves of wood.

"…You don't like sitting here with me and doing absolutely nothing at all?" Fuji-sensei did not glance up from his book, even though the way Tezuka saw it, he only had a couple of pages left. "I'm disappointed."

"I'm missing tennis practice for this." Tezuka laced his fingers together and stared at nothing at all. "Coach will not be happy."

"You weren't going to attend tennis practice anyway." Fuji said with the same sickeningly sweet smile, closing his book. "You were going to skip practice with your little Echizen Ryoma and…well, who knows what kids do nowadays. So I thought your time would be better spent contemplating your behavior today."

Even Tezuka himself had forgotten that, he had been so busy fuming about the fact that Fuji-sensei gave him detention that he had completely forgotten how furious his boyfriend would surely be. How Fuji-sensei knew that…well, that was another story. One story he wasn't going to get, probably.

"You aren't that much older than me." He said, finally, grappling for a sentence that sounded remotely intelligent. That sounded all right.

"True, I'm not. Which probably explains why you're in detention." Fuji-sensei sounded so smug.

He was being mocked, and he had never been mocked before. Tezuka decided that he didn't at all like the feeling. He got to his feet and walked two steps to the desk where Fuji-sensei sat. "I don't like it when you use that tone with me, sensei."

"And I detest it when you don't respect your elders, like you should." Fuji-sensei's words were steady enough; perhaps they might have been even frightening, if the trembling deep blueness of his eyes hadn't given him away.

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Tezuka held the gaze, until the bright eyes finally gave and glanced away. "…I suggest you never give me detention again, sensei. It's a pain. Ryoma is going to be angry with me."

Fuji-sensei no longer met his gaze, but his voice was just as firm as he stared down at the cover of his book, "That's not something that you have the right to suggest, Tezuka-kun."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're incredibly unreasonable, Fuji-sensei?" Tezuka asked, staring idly at his watch, watching the hand creep towards six-thirty. "I really don't like you."

"And I'm not so crazy about you, Tezuka-kun." Fuji-sensei raised his head to stare at him, and the intensity of his gaze had changed, so much so that Tezuka flinched, though just ever so slightly. "As far as I'm concerned, that's Echizen Ryoma's job, bless his soul." He paused for a minute in thought, "For your question, yes, I'm unreasonable. I admit that completely."

Tezuka stared at him a moment longer, and his lips twitched up very slowly into a very slight smirk. "…You shouldn't be so unreasonable." He tilted up Fuji-sensei's face with his thumb and forefinger, "Maybe it's easier for you to get a date. Do you date?"

His teacher's jaw was trembling, "I don't see how that's any of your business." He managed, without shaking.

"You made Ryoma your business, when he's obviously not. So I might as well." Tezuka said, he leaned a little closer, maybe half an inch, he could hear the other's ragged breathing. "I don't think you date, if you want my opinion. You're stuck up, and unreasonable, no one would want you."

"Then I'm sure I'll get plenty of dates." Fuji-sensei said, "I sound exactly like you, you seem to be quite the charmer." He brushed Tezuka's fingers away from his chin, "I appreciate it if you didn't touch me." The tone was firm, though just firm and not cold in anyway.

Tezuka glared at him, and opened his mouth to speak, but his watch caught his eye. Six-thirty. He grabbed his back and stalked out of the room without another word, slamming the door loudly after.


	2. Chapter 2

**Putting Out Fires**

AU, TezukaFuji/ Fuji learns the hard way that it's probably not smart to give Tezuka detention.

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**A/N: **Wow...I must say I'm speechless, 20 reviews on one chapter, you guys are really spoiling me. Thank you all! And to think I was almost not going to post this because I thought it was weird and cliche...but yeah, wow. I'm really speechless. I worked hard on this chapter though, so I hope you all enjoy! And for those of you that are worried, yes, this fic will end up TeFu, just give it time xD.

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Fuji flinched when the door slammed, but he let out a sigh of relief, staring at the parting figure that stormed down the hall through the thick square of glass framed by wood. The past two hours and a half had been one of the most interesting Fuji had ever expected to have, proctoring detention, but it had been both physically, and emotionally draining.

He left the classroom himself, and locked it securely after. The hallway was empty; Fuji hitched his bag over one shoulder and started towards the exit at the end. Almost unconsciously, he brought a finger to his chin and tipped it, just as Tezuka had done.

"_Maybe it's easier for you to get a date. Do you date?" _ Tezuka's voice echoed mockingly in his head.

Fuji was too tired to feel angry. It wasn't like he _couldn't_ get a date. There were plenty of people who would have loved to go out with a Tokyo University graduate. Yuuta had told him as much. But the trouble was, no one wanted to go with a Tokyo University grad who had holes in his pockets.

He shook himself, why was he getting all worked up with that one little comment, anyway? It hadn't come from anyone terribly important, no, he shook himself again. It hadn't come from anyone important. Tezuka Kunimitsu was absolutely no one. Nothing at all.

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His near-ancient motorbike was sitting where he left it, along with his helmet, an old scratched, discolored thing. What bugged Fuji the most was that Tezuka was currently standing next to the motorbike and staring at it like it was some new inhumane scum that shouldn't have infested the earth.

He walked up to the boy and slammed his bag down, loud enough to make Tezuka wince; he saw it: a little slight twitch of the eyes. "What do you want?" Fuji demanded, "Detention is over. Leave me alone."

"It's a nice motorbike." Tezuka said, in a tone that meant anything but.

"You're disrespectful, and you're infinitely exasperating." Fuji glared at him, but his glare didn't seem to have any effect on Tezuka at all, that annoyed him. "I said, leave me alone. Go drive home in your Porsche, or something."

"What's wrong with a Porsche, sensei?" Tezuka looked vaguely amused, "Is it a crime to drive one?"

A lecture was on the tip of Fuji's tongue, and now, looking at the boy standing in front of him, even if Tezuka _was_ a good half a head taller, Fuji would have liked nothing better than to spit it out and watch the words pierce the boy through and through. But he bit his lip and did not reply.

"But no, for your information, I don't drive a Porsche, though, the thought of it is nice."

"What is it, then?" Fuji found it easier to talk if he was staring at his battered helmet, which he gripped tightly in one hand. "Dissatisfied with your Ferrari because you bought it last year?"

"Now, you're the one being rude, sensei." Tezuka said, "I don't own a car, Grandfather won't buy me one, at least, not until I'm twenty. So I usually ride with Echizen, who is not here, you might notice."

"There's a bus stop. Not too far away from here." Fuji said, refusing to be baited. "Ten minutes if you walk, I think."

"I'm not taking the bus."

Fuji stared back at him, "You're not getting a ride from me." He crossed his arms, the nerve of Tezuka to even imply that. "So, it's either the bus, or you're walking, Tezuka-kun."

Tezuka stood still, "Aren't all young teachers so eager to break the rules these days? You could just break one more and take me home, you know. You did break the rules and give me detention, after all."

Fuji fastened his helmet and swung on his bike. "Nowhere in my job description did it say 'thou shalt not give Tezuka Kunimitsu detention because he doesn't want to admit he's an asshole.' Please don't try to lure me away from being a respectable human being."

"Are you saying I'm not respectable?" To his credit, Tezuka kept his voice very even, even enough to sound threatening.

Fuji revved up the motorbike and looked at the boy, smirked. There was no victor yet, but he considered this round finished. "I might be." He smirked, just a little and left his student standing there in a victorious cloud of dust.

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"Why so late?" Fuji Yuuta was his younger brother, three years his junior, and sometimes played his mother.

Fuji kicked off his shoes, "Long day." He announced, "I had to give this kid detention and he didn't make it easy on me. What's for dinner?"

"Well...I invited Shiraishi-san over for dinner..." Yuuta began carefully, and when he saw his brother's look, he sighed and promptly corrected himself, "Okay, so I lied, he invited himself over and he offered to bring takeout...and...I'm just too tired to cook, okay?"

Fuji believed him, so he forgave readily. But still, he didn't understand why Shiraishi Kuranosuke, an intern at Tokyo General, was so infatuated with him. They had both gone to Todai, but Shiraishi studied medicine and was three years ahead.

And besides.

"_Maybe it's easier for you to get a date. Do you date?"_

Fuji slapped himself; tomorrow, he was certainly going to give Tezuka Kunimitsu a good talking to, perhaps he would even find another reason to give the kid detention, it seemed to rile him plenty.

"Aniki?" Yuuta looked at him, "Are you...mad?"

Fuji paused, "Well...yeah, but not at you. Just don't invite Kura-senpai without telling me ahead of time, okay? You do that and I'll have at least enough time to clean the house..."

Yuuta eyed him disapprovingly, "Just because Shiraishi-san's a doctor and rich does not mean you have to go into a cleaning frenzy every time he comes over, aniki. He likes you enough not to care."

"Don't say it like that." A blush crept to bloom on Fuji's cheeks. He rubbed them and they felt very warm.

"Why not? I do like you, Syusuke."

Fuji jumped five feet in the air. Suddenly things made sense, he'd left the door open, and Shiraishi Kuranosuke in khakis and a dress shirt, looked very handsome and amused as he stared at him, leaning against the doorway.

"Kura-senpai! Don't do that to me, you're going to give me a heart attack..." But Fuji's voice grew smaller and smaller as the other man stepped in closer.

Shiraishi kissed him, a chaste brush to his still burning cheek.

Still, all Fuji could hear was the taunting voice of Tezuka Kunimitsu in his head: _"Maybe it's easier for you to get a date. Do you date?"_

The taller man was laughing, as if Fuji's almost ailment was actually amusing, "...Syusuke, you're too young for a heart attack."

Somehow, Fuji doubted it, one was never too young for anything, "I feel myself starting to gray already. The kids are going to be the death of me."

Shiraishi pitied him, "...I'll give you some arsenic poison to take to school."

A pause, Fuji smiled, it didn't seem quite right for the ever kind smiling Kura-senpai to employ such a cutting sense of humor, "Thanks."

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Ryoma's phone rang seven times before the boy picked up. The breathing on the other end was shallow, and Tezuka fought to resist the urge of sighing on his own. The boy was sulking.

Ryoma spoke first, "You lied."

"I'm sorry." There was nothing else to say. "I was...with Fuji-sensei." The confession tasted like bile, and Tezuka winced when he said it. "He gave me detention."

"You should have skipped." The boy was thoroughly disapproving.

"He would have failed me." Tezuka replied, tracing a crease on his bedsheet. "I can't have that."

"Jerk."

Echizen Ryoma had the nerve to hang up on him. Tezuka was definitely going to give Fuji Syusuke, sensei or not, a good talking to tomorrow. He put down his phone and flipped over on his bed.

He lay there awhile, until the silence wrapped itself around his throat and choked him.

Then Tezuka went downstairs and there was a piece of neatly folded stationary on the coffee table. He knew what it was.

_Flying to Spain, won't be back until Sunday. Call if you have problems._

He had plenty of problems, and none of them could be solved by his grandfather, who was half a globe away. Tezuka crumpled the stationary into a ball and threw it; it landed with a neat little _plop_ into the wastebasket.

He wondered about that. Fuji-sensei had good aim.

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After dinner of the most expensive takeout Fuji had ever eaten, he panicked when he realized that Yuuta was gone without him knowing. Shiraishi Kuranosuke, however, was opening up two cans of beer and still was very, very present. He held an open can out to Fuji.

"Here, you need one."

Fuji took it, without question, "Do I look _that_ bad?"

"Well, not bad, stressed." Shiraishi said, sipping his own beer, "Sleeping well?"

Fuji considered, he wondered if he were really stressed. 'Stressed' when used in his vocabulary, implied occasional anxiety, lots of panic and...well, it was high school all over again. "I guess. Although you'd think I'd know better the second time around, huh?"

"Yeah, but this is very much like you. I like it."

Fuji said nothing. He drank more beer.

"Something's bothering you."

Fuji thought of Tezuka. Of the boy's taunting monotonous voice. He hated it. So much.

"Kura-senpai."

"Mm?"

He couldn't say it. But the thought of Tezuka's voice in his head, plaguing him every time he thought...Fuji swallowed, hard enough to hurt. Quickly, he shook his head, "...Sorry."

"For what?"

_Goddamnit_. Fuji drowned more beer, until his whole can was empty.

Shiraishi Kuranosuke understood, because Kura-senpai understood everything. His kisses were gentle and soothing and Fuji hooked his arms around the other's waist. The kisses were warm, dizzying and he clung closer.

"I don't know what I'm doing." He confessed quietly.

Shiraishi's hands wandered, up under his shirt, against his bare skin. He knew exactly what he was doing. "That's okay."

Fuji groaned, fleetingly, he thought of Yuuta, if his younger brother had known all along.

And in his head, Tezuka was silent.

Another victory.

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Later, Fuji lay with his head on Shiraishi's lap. It was a very strange position, but then, this day had been strange altogether, at least, on Fuji's part. However, it wasn't as if his senpai actually minded. In fact, Shiraishi seemed to be enjoying himself plenty, as he threaded his fingers through Fuji's hair.

"Why did you become a teacher?"

Fuji closed his eyes and sighed. "I wanted to save the world. It's stupid now. I wish I hadn't done it."

"We need people to save the world." Shiraishi said, with a smile, but he did not laugh. If he had, Fuji wouldn't have forgiven him.

"It doesn't have to be me."

Shiraishi's kiss to his forehead was warm, and understanding. And he said nothing at all. Only after a long, long silence did he venture, "Most people who are heroes say that." The answer was reassuring, he was telling him something else. That it was all right.

Fuji stared up calmly at the man above him. Maybe it was all right if he believed. As a 'hero'; however, he thought he was downright unique because he hated the people he saved.

"You'll stay the night?"

"If you'd let me, I'd love to stay."

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Echizen Ryoma, with his cousin Nanako at the wheel, showed up promptly at seven-thirty on Tezuka's doorstep, as they always did. Although this time, Ryoma didn't smirk at him – he didn't even look. Tezuka tried not to let it bother him too much.

Seishun Gakuen came in sight none too soon. Nanako parked next to the curb right next to the teacher's parking lot, and Tezuka let his eyes wander for Fuji-sensei's motorbike, although he didn't find it.

Nanako drove away, Tezuka watched her go, and so did Ryoma. The boy still stubbornly stonewalled him. He sighed. His stoicism seemed to have rubbed off in all the wrong ways.

A car drove by and turned into the parking lot. It wasn't a car Tezuka recognized, but the moment the passenger side door opened, he did an immediate double take. He was far away, but not far away enough.

It was Fuji-sensei.

And then the driver's door opened and a very tall, good-looking man got out. Tezuka kicked himself for thinking the second adjective. But that didn't change the fact that it was true.

The man kissed Fuji's cheek, and his teacher blushed.

"Mou...Kura-senpai, you don't have to walk me to class. You'll be late for work."

"I'm not in a hurry." The man said, "Or is that just an excuse to get rid of me?"

Fuji blushed harder, but then, his teacher turned his head just a fatal inch, and saw.

Him.

With Ryoma.

Fuji smiled. It was a terrible smile, Tezuka thought. He watched the stranger drop a lazy arm around Fuji. And that terrible smile grew. "No, I never said that." Fuji seemed to be choosing his words carefully, now that he knew Tezuka was watching, listening. "I just...you know, didn't want to be a burden."

They were walking. With each step, they were getting closer. Tezuka found himself rooted to the spot. Ryoma seemed just as transfixed, standing there beside him, but he wasn't sure why.

The two of them passed by, and Fuji said, "Good morning, Tezuka-kun, Echizen-kun."

Tezuka did not reply, couldn't reply.

Ryoma glared at Fuji's back, and took Tezuka's hand, just as the stranger turned around to give them another look.

"Who are they?"

Fuji laughed lightly, "The bane of my existence, the tall one gives me gray hair."


	3. Chapter 3

**Putting Out Fires**

AU, TezukaFuji/ Fuji learns the hard way that it's probably not smart to give Tezuka detention.

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**A/N: **Can anyone say 'fast update' much? Geh, well, blame life. I felt I needed a nice dose of slashy goodness and this was spawned. All in one setting too! Kudoes to those who can guess how long it took me. Thanks sooooo much for all your reviews and support, and life gives you lemons, write fanfiction. That's my motto! Hopefully, Lost Fantasies will be up by Tezuka's birthday, and since today's Atobe birthday...eh. But this chapter doesn't even have Atobe in it. I'll whip up something for him sooner or later. There's this ToFu bunny I've been toying with.

But for now, toodles and enjoy!!

**Edit: Side Notes**

a.) The legal age in Japan is 20, I'm pretty sure.

b.) Shiraishi's given name is Kuranosuke, I just took the first part and made it 'Kura-senpai' I thought it sounded cute. xD

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At the very least, Ryoma was speaking to him again. If one look from Fuji-sensei did that...well, Tezuka was surprised that he hadn't thought of it. Still, who it took, that was what angered him. It had to take Fuji-sensei, for his boyfriend to speak to him again. It was absolutely, beyond humiliating.

He dozed in chemistry, half toying with the idea of strangling his teacher with his bare hands, Fuji definitely looked fragile enough. And Sanada-sensei, because he knew his place, left Tezuka well alone.

Second period found Tezuka skulking in the hallways, Japanese was an useless subject, he knew everything already because his grandfather had, at one point, been a language scholar. He lit a cigarette because the hallway was abandoned.

Leaning against the wall, he drew a lungful of smoke and blew it towards the ceiling, weighing his options. He could go visit Ryoma, who would choose Tezuka over class any day. Going around with Tezuka wasn't good for the boy, it gave him a big head, but of course Tezuka wasn't going to tell him that.

Or he could go pay Fuji-sensei a well-deserved visit. He'd make things clear, that if you had the nerve to be cheeky to Tezuka Kunimitsu, you were going to be damned sorry for it.

Tezuka stamped out his cigarette butt with the heel of his shoe and _smirked_. He smirked because no one was around to see.

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Incidentally, Fuji-sensei's classroom was empty, and Fuji didn't seem all that surprised to see him. He was sitting calmly at his desk doing paperwork, deliberately ignoring Tezuka's presence. At last, he put down his pen and looked up. Fuji smiled a pleasant smile, "Hello, Tezuka-kun. Did you need something?"

Tezuka opened his mouth, and closed it. He had been expecting some kind of lecture on skipping class, but...of course, Fuji was out of the ordinary. He took in a deep breath, "Nothing."

Fuji cocked a curious eyebrow at him, but returned to work.

In turn, Tezuka lingered in the doorway for a few moments, trying to decide the best course of action. Finally, he made himself comfortable atop a desk directly in front of Fuji.

"I smell smoke on you." Fuji said without looking up. "What will your grandfather say?"

Finally, Tezuka was thankful. Here was a banter he was all too familiar with, crossing his legs, he shrugged, "He's in Spain. He doesn't know anything. Besides, I don't smoke in the house."

"I see."

That was the only answer he received for his pains and Tezuka seethed. But Fuji didn't offer him an opening again. Only the scritch-scratch of his pen filled the silence.

"Fuji-sensei."

His teacher looked up.

"I hate you."

Fuji seemed to consider this information for a moment too long. And then he smiled. "Then why are you here? If you're here to harass me...I guess, you should rethink your methods."

That hit Tezuka squarely like a slap across the face.

"Do you get off on this, sensei?"

"Of you?" Fuji stared at him again, "...I should hope not. I'm hardly a pedophile."

Tezuka thought of the man from this morning. The man that had touched Fuji so intimately and casually. The man that Fuji-sensei seemed to have an affectionate nickname for. Kura-senpai.

Tezuka found that he hated this Kura-senpai, already. Because with Kura-senpai, Fuji-sensei was...

"I'm seventeen." Tezuka said resentfully. "What's three years?"

Fuji looked at him again. The smile dancing at the edge of his teacher's lips this time had an edge to it. An edge that Tezuka didn't like at all. "Listen to yourself, Tezuka-kun. It's funny."

Tezuka glared at him, trying to hide the fact that he was indeed confused. "What's funny?"

His teacher hid his laugh behind one hand. "It just is. That's all."

"What is?"

Fuji sighed, as if Tezuka was pathetic, not to catch the joke. "I thought you were smarter than that. Listen to yourself, Tezuka-kun. You sound like a little girl trying to hit on me."

Tezuka faltered.

Trying to...hit on...

Fuji?

"You _do_ get off on this."

"No."

Tezuka wanted to sock him in the stomach. Hard, he wanted to see Fuji spit blood from his delicate, pretty little mouth. But all he could do at this moment was shake and seethe.

A dull buzz cut off both of them, and Fuji looked down at his phone. Ignoring Tezuka altogether, he flipped it open, and held it up to his ear. "You shouldn't call me, I might have class, Kura-senpai."

There was murmuring on the other end, and then Fuji laughed, and the laugh was beautiful, not at all mocking, "...Too bad, you got my hopes up for a moment there." There was a pause, "I guess...since it's Friday. Carat Club sounds fine...but you have to call Yuuta for me."

Then his teacher listened a moment more, "Eight-thirty. I"ll see you." And then he had the nerve to look so smug as he hung up.

Tezuka looked for a jab and kicked himself when he didn't find one. Instead, he sounded like a good model student and said, "...You aren't supposed to be taking personal calls during school hours."

Fuji smiled at him, "I know."

Tezuka wished that the man would stop smiling. It was so calm and flat, it was altogether unsettling. It was almost cold. It was cold. "I could run you in."

"Are you threatening me?"

His mouth hung open, but Tezuka closed his mouth when he had realized. "...In a way."

Fuji seemed satisfied with that answer and turned back to his paperwork. Tezuka looked closer and realized he was grading quizzes from a few days ago. He was about to open his mouth to ask something else, when who else but Principal Ryuzaki walked into the room.

"Syusuke..." and then she trailed off. Eyes fixed on Tezuka, she said, rather warily, "What are you doing here, Tezuka-kun?"

"I'm--"

"I asked him to come, Sumire." Fuji-sensei looked up again, "Tezuka-kun's marks are off the charts in Japanese, although the same can't be said for English...I was going to tell Minami-sensei that I was borrowing him, but...apparently it slipped my mind."

Ryuzaki narrowed her eyes. "This is unorthodox."

"My apologies." Fuji smiled, sickly sweet, "I'll return him now. The period's about to be over."

-

-

Fuji smiled at Tezuka's back as the boy followed a disapproving principal out of the room.

Well, it seemed that their hands were at least equal now.

He went back to work.

-

-

Tezuka and Ryoma had lunch, in a corner that no one dared to come near. Tezuka knew that his younger boyfriend hadn't forgiven him completely for yesterday's transgressions, but at least...

"Ryoma."

"Mm?"

Tezuka paused, "...What are you doing tonight?"

"I'm staying home with Nanako, I think my parents are going to be out this weekend..." The boy pulled at a strand of Tezuka's hair and wounded it around his fingers. "Why?"

"I was thinking of going somewhere...Carat Club?"

"Kunimitsu, that's a strip club." Ryoma said the words in something akin to awe. He was only fifteen after all, and all the grownup things that Tezuka insisted on him trying were...sometimes very out of his league, but of course he couldn't say no to Tezuka. "_You_ can't even get in, never mind me."

"I can get in."

"Why?"

Tezuka said, "My cousin Seiichi works there. I'll just call him tonight. Are you coming with me?"

Ryoma paused for a long minute, "I can't tell Nanako that I'm sneaking out to go to a _strip club._" He sighed, "You're impossible sometimes..."

"You don't tell her that." Tezuka shook his head, "You tell her you're just sleeping over. It's fine otherwise, Nanako-san likes me, doesn't she?"

The boy considered this as he settled his head on Tezuka's knee, Nanako had never lost suspicion of his older boyfriend, but Tezuka had never ever laid a hand on Ryoma in any way that was any cause for suspicion. "I guess...but only if you talk to her about it. Why do you _want_ to go anyway? Can't we just go to the arcade like we always do?"

"It's juvenile."

"You didn't say that last week."

Tezuka sighed, "I changed my mind. Are you coming or not?"

It wasn't like Echizen Ryoma was particularly happy with the term of events, but yes, the fact remained that Tezuka Kunimitsu was so much older than he was, at seventeen. He had no other choice but to agree, and if anything, going to a strip club with his boyfriend was starting to seem enticing.

-

-

It was funny. But then, Fuji supposed he was glad it hadn't happened. He had half expected Tezuka to stalk back into his classroom, in front of the students, and demand to know why Fuji had been so irrational. But he waited, and the day drew to a close, and there was no Tezuka.

Perhaps Tezuka was smarter than he thought.

And he was glad that the boy hadn't come back, else it would have been detention again, and he might have had to cancel with Kura-senpai, who, for some reason or the other, readily and willingly left work early to meet him at a club.

He taught one class of freshman English, last period. Echizen Ryoma sat hunched over in his seat by the window. Tezuka sat there, three periods earlier, Fuji was pretty sure it was not a coincidence.

-

-

Fuji found himself within the bright noisy crowd of Carat Club, and was somewhat surprised that Yuuta would agree to his coming to such a place. Yes, he was that pathetic, he sought his younger brother's permission on places he was allowed to go. But his younger brother seemed wholly agreeable, probably because Fuji was with Shiraishi and finally showing signs of blooming a social life.

The crowd made his head hurt, the dancers all around him made him...wonder, and the drinks that Shiraishi made him try made his head spin. Still, he was giddy, happy.

The rational part of Fuji's mind told him that this wasn't a good idea at all. But he wasn't rational now, he was happy, and _living_, like he had never lived.

"Syusuke, I'm going to get another drink, okay? What would you like?"

Fuji considered, although in his currently dazed state, he probably wasn't making very good choices, "A mojito, maybe?" He nuzzled Shiraishi's chin and received a light kiss on his forehead.

"Okay, stay here."

-

-

"I can't believe you brought a fifteen-year-old kid in here." Yukimura Seiichi failed to see how any of this was funny. He spoke in German, since he knew that the little brat hanging on his cousin's arm couldn't understand a word. "I'm in enough trouble letting you in here as it is."

Tezuka smirked, Seiichi worked the bar and refused to dance. Although of course, he had the body for it. A sense of propriety was hard to find in these parts. He replied just as fluently in German, "He would have whined if I didn't let him come with me."

"What did he say?" Ryoma tugged at his hand.

"Nothing."

Seiichi rolled his eyes, "Does your grandfather know where you go off to in your spare time?"

"He's in Spain. I doubt it."

"What did he _say_?"

Tezuka was beginning to wish that he hadn't harassed Ryoma into coming along. "He didn't say anything. It's an old joke. Would you like something to drink?"

"Kunimitsu, this is bullshit." Still in German. Seiichi shook his head, "I hope you know what you're doing."

Ryoma looked at Seiichi, "Doesn't your cousin speak Japanese?"

"Minimally." Tezuka said, lying through his teeth, Seiichi had lived in Japan for most of his life, although he did go to Berlin to study, hence the German. He fled back the moment he got his degree. The English was prevalent because of a boyfriend he used to go around with, "However, he does speak impeccable English. You can practice."

Seiichi rolled his eyes, and Ryoma looked less than agreeable. However, it was Seiichi who admonished him. Because he was older, at twenty-four, and he worked in a bar, and he was related to Tezuka, it brought him all sorts of unspoken privileges. Privileges Tezuka knew Ryoma would kill to own.

But he would never.

"You are a bitch." Seiichi said, smiling humorlessly. That was in English, and then he switched back, "Why didn't you leave him at home then?"

"He would have whined." Tezuka said, repeating his earlier answer, although he privately agreed. "You've never seen him whine."

"Thank God for that." Seiichi said, filling a clear glass with a yellow pus liquid and placed it in front of Ryoma. "Here, it's pinapple juice with rum. Drink slowly."

-

-

Half an hour later, Ryoma was sufficiently bombed. Tezuka was no less annoyed and Seiichi was no less disapproving. They deposited the unconscious boy on a couch , with a thick cushion for a pillow. The latter sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.

"I hope you're happy. It's going to take days to get rid of all the alcohol in his system. He's probably going to be hungover all weekend."

Tezuka echoed the sigh, "I didn't tell you to get him so drunk."

"Ah, but you didn't stop me either." Seiichi said, "Whatever, all that English is making my head hurt. Your German's atrocious."

Of course his German was atrocious, he only knew what Seiichi thought to teach him, "Shut up."

Seiichi just smiled serenely at him. A smile that reminded him vaguely of Fuji-sensei. "Just go and do whatever it is you have to and don't come near me until it's time to leave."

A curse was on the tip of his tongue, but Tezuka bit until he tasted blood and did not speak. Besides, he had better people to curse at.

-

-

"Dance with me."

Fuji's head lolled dangerously to one side, "I'm tired." He admitted, playing with the buttons of Shiraishi's shirt, "Why don't you go dance?"

"Because you'd be jealous of me, won't you?"

Fuji considered, no. He didn't really think he would be that jealous of Shiraishi, because well...at the end of the day, Kura-senpai would come drifting back anyway.

The very thought made him feel horrible.

"Of course I will." Fuji settled on a smile, "But I'm drunk and that's the end of it. I mean...you know. As long as you promise not to goad me too much about it, go dance with a free heart and mind."

"Ever so poetic."

But Shiraishi kissed him and helped him lie down, his legs dangled off the end of the cushioned bench, and the people before him mingled in a pleasant blur. Fuji clumsily beckoned a waitress over and grabbed a random drink off her tray. He smiled at Shiraishi.

"Go on, Kura-senpai. I"ll be right here."

Shiraishi disappeared, another colorful shadow in the crowd. Fuji wasn't much for dancing. He just liked watching people, and he liked the drinks, perhaps too much.

He was sipping his glass lazily when a figure approached him, and dropped lazily beside him. This intruder smelled like smoke and lime. It wasn't Shiraishi. It was...

"I can't figure you out, sensei."

Something in the part of his undrunk mind flashed alarms. Fuji sat up, clumsily, and clinked his empty glass on the table. "Tezuka...kun." He blinked, "Tezuka-kun! Wha—what are you doing here?"

"I thought you might be here." Tezuka returned flatly.

Fuji glared at him, "Are you trying to hit on me again?"

Tezuka shrugged, "You're drunk, aren't you?"

"No." Grappling for the glass, Fuji scowled when he realized it was empty. He slammed it and it crack, he felt it crack because there was a searing pain on the tip of one finger. "Leave me alone. I'm here with someone."

"Your boyfriend? He's run off, I saw him."

"I told him to run off. Now go _away_." Fuji was on the verge of sulking. He sucked his finger, deciding that blood was a very strange taste. "It's the weekend, and I don't want to see you. Besides, Kura-senpai's not my boyfriend anyway."

This piece of news came as a surprise to Tezuka, but it was altogether a welcome surprise. "...Not your boyfriend?" He echoed thoughtfully, "Really?"

"Really." Fuji affirmed. He stood up shakily and spotted a girl with a tray not so far away. "Could you just please go now, Tezuka-kun? You shouldn't be here, aren't you seventeen?"

Tezuka looked at him, "My cousin works here."

"That's not an excuse." Fuji said.

All it took was one step. Tezuka put his foot out, and Fuji-sensei tripped, landing so conveniently into his lap. With their faces merely inches apart, he gave his teacher a half smirk.

"I told you not to mess with me."

"Tezuka, don't--" The azures were deep and uncertain. Fuji tried to get up again, but Tezuka wasn't about to let him. "Don't do this..."

Tezuka kissed him, and even though Fuji-sensei kept his mouth tightly shut, he was satisfied. He had stolen something that was never meant to be his. The highest treason.

He shoved a rather dazed Fuji back on the cushioned sofa and disappeared into the crowd.

Two could play the game.

l


	4. Chapter 4

**Putting Out Fires**

AU, TezukaFuji/ Fuji learns the hard way that it's probably not smart to give Tezuka detention.

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**A/N:** I have a feeling I'm having way too much fun torturing our dear bishies, but honestly, it's sooo fun!! And OMG, I have over 70 reviews, I'm most certainly speechless and thanks to everyone, I'm definitely working harder to bring you faster updates. This chapter is something of a filler though, and I promise to all Perfect Pair fans, the goodness really starts next chapter. I'm already halfway done with that. xDDDD. **  
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-

* * *

"Something tells me that I should be very scared of you." Seiichi said, as he edged his car out of the parking lot, "That smirk...could you just stop smirking like that? What did you do anyway?" He swerved onto the street, "No, actually, don't tell me, I don't want to know."

Tezuka looked at him, "I just...proved something, that's all."

"And that something would be?" Seiichi raised an eyebrow.

"You wouldn't get it if I told you." Tezuka shrugged. "Besides, it's not really all that important."

"...You are insane."

"No, I"m not."

Seiichi shrugged, "Or so you say. Was I ever so screwed up when I was your age? I don't remember. I never drugged any kid after I dragged him to some strip club."

Speaking of which, Tezuka turned back, where Ryoma lay curled on the backseat, with a withered old blanket draped over him, "I didn't drug him, I don't know how much juice and rum you fed him, but I didn't do anything. And besides, I didn't drug him." Having this banter with Seiichi was ruining his mood.

"How do people put up with you? I bet you're failing school."

Tezuka glared at him, "I'm not failing, I'm not doing so well in English, but that's another story."

"What're you going to do this time? Blackmail him?" Seiichi didn't approve of his younger cousin, who, at seventeen, was always trying to appear older and wiser. Of course, it wasn't in the kindhearted Yukimura Seiichi to tell the still very childish Tezuka that he was none of those things. No matter how determined he was to throw a fit and make everything all right.

"I don't blackmail, that's low." Tezuka sounded irritated.

"Then whatever happened to Aoi-sensei if you didn't blackmail him?" Seiichi looked at him pointedly.

"He was different, if you had to sit in his class for an hour everyday, I'm sure you'd understand." Tezuka rubbed his temples, "Why are you so determined to destroy my good mood?"

"Were you in a good mood?" Yukimura gave him a nonchalant half smile, and reminded him of Fuji-sensei, again. He hated that smile.

"Don't smile like that."

"Why not?"

"Because." And here, Tezuka paused, because there was not really a legitimate reason he could use without giving everything away, "I hate it. That's all."

"I'm not going to stop because you hate it, Kunimitsu." Seiichi was genuinely amused, "You're such a brat with everyone else...now just shut up and be reasonable, or else I will throw you out of the car."

"_You're disrespectful, and you're infinitely exasperating."_

At least Fuji-sensei had sense to be somewhat elegant about it, while Seiichi was only trying to get on his nerves.

But that didn't change a damn thing. Tezuka bit his lip, and reached out to turn on the radio, he found a station playing something loud and obnoxious, and turned it up all the way.

Seiichi said something, but it didn't matter because Tezuka didn't hear him.

-

-

His mouth tasted like lime, smoke...and Tezuka.

Fuji despised Tezuka more than ever, if he was going to continuously suffer bodily harm and public humiliation at the hands of one insufferable Tezuka Kunimitsu, Tezuka was going to be locked in detention until the end of the year.

He wanted to throw up.

But he knew that if he vomited, he'd make a scene, and that was the last thing he wanted was to make a scene. Listen to himself, he was even _thinking_ in circles...it didn't make any sense.

Fuji rubbed his temples and sat up, maybe what he needed was another good stiff drink, and Kura-senpai to make sure he forgot about everything. But...the kiss still seared in his mouth, the taste sour.

And Tezuka leered at him in the back of his head.

"_Do you get off on this, sensei?"_

Fuji sighed, he teetered dangerously to his feet and looked around, there was no Tezuka in sight. There was no Kura-senpai, either. He stumbled over to the bar and ignored the sloppy smile from a girl that didn't look quite legal.

He ordered a Blue Manhattan and was halfway through nursing it when a pair of warm arms wrapped around his shoulders. This person smelled of sweat, cologne, and no smoke. He relaxed.

"Kura-senpai."

"I thought I told you go lie down?"

Fuji shrugged noncommittally, "I..needed another drink."

Shiraishi nuzzled his neck, "You shouldn't drink so much."

Fuji laughed, "I hardly ever drink, you know that." the other's breath on his neck made him giggle. "I just wanted to drink enough so I could dance." Turning around, he breathed in a deep scent with no smoke.

Although it wasn't near enough to get rid of the taste in his mouth.

"Dance with me, Kura-senpai."

-

-

"Kunimitsu."

Tezuka wasn't the least bit sleepy. So he had deposited Ryoma on the couch and sat beside him watching television. He had invited Seiichi in, but of course Seiichi was always too much of an ass to stay. It weirded him out that he was under the same roof as his very underage cousin, and something could always happen. Especially if there was liquor involved.

Which was funny because Tezuka had only had a couple, and Seiichi nothing at all. Bartenders were not allowed to drink on the job.

So that left Seiichi as an ass.

Tezuka jerked himself out of his thoughts when he realized that the boy beside him was awake.

"Mm?"

"My head hurts...what happened?" The boy's olive eyes glinted in the dark.

"...Well." Somehow, Tezuka didn't think that telling Ryoma that he had been tricked into drinking so much juice and rum to become unconscious was the way to go. Instead, he shrugged, "We drank some, and we didn't do much. You fell asleep. Seiichi took us home."

"I don't like your cousin."

"Me neither."

Ryoma paused then, probably happy that they agreed on something, for once.

"...Kunimitsu, did I ruin everything?"

Tezuka paused, "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Then Ryoma shook his head, "Never mind. You probably don't want to talk about it."

"Ryoma..."

"It's nothing. I'm just tired, and I'm rambling." Ryoma nuzzled his knee with a tired yawn. "Did you have fun tonight?"

"Yeah. I guess I did."

Tezuka still had the faint taste of Fuji's lips in his mouth, the man's lips had tasted like too much liquor, and something else he couldn't quite pin down. He didn't know what Fuji's mouth tasted like.

But he found that he wouldn't mind so much, finding out. Perhaps the night wasn't such a waste after all.

-

-

"_Come on, aniki, get out of bed, it's Monday and you need to go to work." _

"_I don't want to. Go away."_

"_Aniki, if you're not going to work, I'm calling mom." _

Yuuta sure knew how to blackmail people. But perhaps, he only learned from the best (i.e. his older brother) and Yuuta knew just as well as Fuji, perhaps even better, that all he had to do to get Fuji to bend over was to mention their mother.

Fuji was terrified of his mother. Not because she was a scary person, actually, she was very nice. It was just her expectations were altogether terrifying and he'd rather stay far away.

It was all these threats and then some that caused Fuji to be in his straight backed chair behind his desk, glaring at each student that cowered before him. He had spent the whole weekend humiliated. He also had spent the whole weekend with Shiraishi, but nothing had seemed to help.

At least it was only fourth period now, he wouldn't see Tezuka until fifth—provided that the boy showed up at all. If Fuji was lucky, Tezuka would have good sense to ditch to where teenagers ditched. Actually, Fuji wasn't too far from his teenage years, only four years. But he found he felt prehistoric and just didn't want to deal.

The bell rang, jerking him from his half-asleep state. The stampede of footsteps in the hallway were already deafening and Fuji thought about wasting his vocal chords, trying to remind everyone that their statements were due Friday.

But then he decided against it.

The unfortunate crew for fifth period filed in, with their identical uniforms and book bags. Oishi's arm was still in a sling, and Fuji watched as the poor boy stumbled awkwardly to his seat in the sixth row. He made a mental note to ask Oishi how he was doing.

The bell buzzed again, dull and sleepy, and soon the stampede in the hallway stopped.

With that, Fuji looked towards a particular seat near the window in the third row.

There was no Tezuka.

Fuji sighed. There was a little prickle in the back of his mind, he managed to convince himself it was merely annoyance and relief in two tries, and reached for the thick book on his desk and stood up.

"Good morning, I hope everyone had a nice weekend..."

_Hell, better than mine, anyway._

-

-

A period later, the very same seat by the window in the third row, remained empty. Not that Fuji minded any, a day without either Tezuka Kunimitsu or Echizen Ryoma to trip him up was a blessing. That, and everything was eerily quiet during class without them there to make a scene.

In short, Fuji was rethinking his pledge to strangle Yuuta when he got home. Somehow, he would get through the day.

It was getting on to be twelve, and as the last unfortunate crew stampeded outside, Fuji sighed. So much for a Monday. But at least it was over, and he could leave and continue to contemplate on never coming back. Making short work of stuffing various assignments into their respective file folders, he only looked up when his door creaked.

"I apologize for not coming to class." Tezuka Kunimitsu said, walking in, as if nothing was wrong, "...I just came to give you this, sensei. This was due, right?" He held out a piece of paper.

Fuji stared at him, he opened his mouth and then closed it again, lest something inappropriate slipped without his permission.

Tezuka put the piece of paper down on his desk, and Fuji almost didn't want to touch it.

Tezuka looked at him, with a half smirk hanging about his lips but of course, since he was Tezuka, that was all. And it was infuriating enough. What's more, instead of 'coming just to do something', Tezuka showed no signs of wanting to leave.

"Sensei, did you have a nice weekend?"

Fuji bit his lip, hard. There wasn't anything he could say. Tezuka had the advantage on school grounds, and he knew that his student knew it. Too well.

Tezuka waited, and finally, Fuji sighed.

"Tezuka-kun, do you have a date with Echizen-kun tomorrow?"

Tezuka looked surprised, and Fuji was glad, he would have felt 'smug' but he had a feeling that he wasn't out of the woods yet. But the boy took time to think it over, and then he shook his head no. "I don't think so."

Fuji smiled, "Good, good. I'm running you in for insubordination and disrespect, and cutting class. I expect to see you back here in my room at 4:30 sharp tomorrow."

Tezuka's jaw dropped, and Fuji could have sworn he heard it slam against the ground. His smile grew.

"Why?"

"Because I feel like it." Fuji shrugged.

"What if I don't?"

"Then I'll make sure you're suspended for a month."

"You'd lose your job." Tezuka said, using something he obviously considered as infallible leverage.

"I could always find another." Fuji stood up, gathering up the files in a neat stack and scooped them up. And he could. He was fresh out of Todai, with tons of bright futures, it was just none of his futures seemed to be economically stable. "No matter how you look at it, Tezuka-kun, I have the upper hand."

He brushed past Tezuka without looking at him.

"No, you don't."

Fuji paused near the door, "Yes I do." He said calmly, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, "And I suggest you don't try me. I'll see you tomorrow."

-

-

"I have detention with Fuji-sensei." Tezuka reported dully to Ryoma, who had been placidly staring at the window and counting raindrops, as Nanako sped down the road. It probably never occurred to her that it would probably be a smart thing to do to slow down when it was raining.

Ryoma looked at him, "What's up with you and detention all of the sudden?"

"It's Fuji-sensei's fault."

"Che." The boy sounded merely annoyed, and not angry. For that, Tezuka could be relieved, just a little. "You never went to Sanada-sensei's detentions."

"Sanada-sensei has never given me detention." Tezuka reminded him, "And it's different." Well, once upon a very long time, Sanada had, but Tezuka had never bothered to show, and Sanada gave up by and by.

"Different how? Because you _like_ detentions with Fuji-sensei?"

Tezuka's jaw fell for the second time that day. "No. Of course not." He said, a second or two too late, "He said he'd suspend me." The excuse sounded pathetic to his own ears.

"Yeah right." Ryoma's voice sounded oddly hollow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Putting Out Fires**

AU, TezukaFuji/ Fuji learns the hard way that it's probably not smart to give Tezuka detention.

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**A/N: **First off, a **HUGE HUGE THANKS** to everyone that helped me hit 100, I really appreciate it, it's wonderful grub for my muse hehe. Secondly, this chapter really turned out well, at least, I like it a lot. There is a lot more TezuFuji than originally planned, but hey, that's a good thing, right? Enjoy!

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Yuuta looked at his brother, dripping wet and wearing the most disturbing smile that he had ever seen. And for the single fact that he was Syusuke's younger brother, he had seen plenty of those.

"I told you to bring an umbrella this morning." Yuuta said, disapproving.

"Not like I can use it with the bike, anyway." Fuji shrugged, "And it doesn't matter. I like the rain."

"You won't like it so much when you catch cold." Yuuta sighed, he tossed his brother a towel, "Honestly, shouldn't you be thinking about getting a car? I'm perfectly fine with the bus and all, but with you it's different. See, you're an adult with a respectable job and you can't bum rides off of Shiraishi every time."

Fuji paused in rubbing his hair, "I do _not_ bum rides off of Kura-senpai."

"Yeah, right."

"_Yuuta_--"

"Aniki." Yuuta sounded exasperated, "What's up with you? And don't you dare tell me nothing's wrong because I know something is! Shiraishi's liked you for years, and suddenly you two are so lovey-dovey it's disgusting! And what's with this coming home drunk business? You promised me we wouldn't drink."

"I'm twenty-three and I can handle myself just fine." Fuji snapped, "Don't you approve of Kura-senpai, anyway?"

"Yeah, but not when you're taking advantage of him."

"What the hell do you mean?"

Yuuta sighed again, either his brother had suddenly lost a lot of brain cells, thanks to high school, or he was in deep denial, "You don't really like Shiraishi-san, you're just keeping him around because he's someone to keep around, aren't you, aniki?"

Fuji felt, and looked as much, as if his younger brother had slapped him good and hard across the face.

"I'm not."

"You are."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I see it." Yuuta assured him. "Your eyes don't light up when you see him, and you just don't _like_ him. You know it as well as I do."

It was Fuji's turn to sigh, "Yes, fine, I get it, but I don't get why you're so worked up about it." He rubbed his temples absently, "...Maybe if I keep him around though, I'll learn how to like him."

"That's something you should have learned a couple of years ago." Yuuta shrugged, "Besides, it's impossible."

"For me to like him?" Fuji arched a curious eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because you like someone else." Yuuta took the wet towel from his brother and slung it over one arm, "And you look like you're waiting." He paused, and then abruptly changed the subject, "I'm making spaghetti tonight, go take a shower."

-

-

Fuji stood in the shower, trying to puzzle out Yuuta's words. Apparently, according to his brother, he liked someone. Yuuta was not sure who, and of course he couldn't be sure because Fuji himself was pretty sure that he didn't like anyone.

And the second part of Yuuta's words were just as cryptic. He looked like he was waiting. So perhaps, he already knew the person that he was supposedly 'destined' to like. Outside of Shiraishi, Fuji didn't think of any other possible candidates. To be honest, he had always been pretty sure that he would eventually like Shiraishi Kuranosuke the way the man deserved to be like.

But it was 'impossible.'

Fuji stepped out of the shower, after drying off, he put on flannel pants and a long-sleeved shirt. It was getting too cold to wear t-shirts. He was brushing his hair with his fingers when a knock sounded on the door.

"Aniki, Atobe's on the phone. Do you want to talk to him?"

Fuji considered. He was having a bad day in every way possible, having Atobe be part of his day would undoubtedly make it even worse. Just because Atobe Keigo was the only cousin that Fuji could somewhat stand to have around, did not give his mother permission to hire his cousin as a spy to spy on her estranged son.

"No, not particularly. Tell him to go jump off a cliff, will you?"

Muffled something.

"He says go to hell."

"That's not nice."

"No, but seriously though, he says we should come back for the gathering next weekend, nobody's seen us since you graduated and it's your familial duty."

"Duty my ass." Fuji shook his head, leave it to Atobe to make even something so stupid as coming for dinner so high class and disgusting.

There was a long, long pause, and then Yuuta said, "I hung up on him."

It was just like his brother, just like his precious little baby brother. Fuji felt a sudden rush of gratitude. He threw open the bathroom door and told Yuuta as much trying to squeeze the younger man to death in his arms.

-

-

Tezuka Kunikazu, Tezuka's grandfather, was back from Spain and looked at least a century older for it. He had chronicled his journey during a simple of dinner of soup and rice. They were wealthy, but Tezuka's grandfather was a big proponent against gluttony so they never ate like kings. Given how sallow the older Tezuka looked, Tezuka garnered that the transaction hadn't gone as planned.

Well, at least he wasn't the only one. Things weren't going so swell for Tezuka, either. He didn't hide this as well as he wanted to, as his grandfather looked at him and said, "Principal Ryuzaki gave me a call."

Tezuka was suddenly wary, he stirred his soup. "What did she say?"

"She told me you were doing better in school, and that your tennis abilities are beyond what anyone anticipated this year. Taking the tournaments this year is going to be an easy task, yes?"

"Well, I can't afford to let my guard down." Tezuka mumbled, more relieved than anything, he had forgotten how important Tezuka Kunikazu's yearly donations meant to Seishun Gakuen. So much that Ryuzaki Sumire would personally call their house and lie through her teeth.

Either she was a brave woman, or just helplessly stupid. Tezuka stood up and pushed back his chair, "I'm done, I'm going upstairs."

-

-

The next day was Tuesday, apparently, two was an unlucky number for Tezuka, although he wasn't the least bit superstitious. It just seemed that everything seemed to be going wrong. First, his attempt to ditch Japanese was foiled because that had a substitute teacher whose mouth was as sharp as her eyes.

Then, his plan to hold extra tennis practice during gym was foiled because

some stupid idiot of the basketball team dared to pick a fight with him, and the poor kid (a freshman, no doubt) had been sent to the nurse's office with a colorful array of bruises, and the said freshman had been suspended.

As for Tezuka, they had sense enough to give him a warning.

But his woes didn't end there, because high school was cursed in every way possible, it wasn't long until he heard the rumor going around that Tezuka Kunimitsu, who liked to be in control of everything, was bending over for the new English teacher because he had a pretty face.

Which definitely was not true, and Tezuka had sent two more unfortunate victims to the nurse with nosebleeds.

Tezuka Kunimitsu was not having a good day.

And when he stalked into Fuji-sensei's classroom, he knew his teacher knew it. He also needed a smoke, desperately.

"...How are you, Tezuka-kun?"

"Not well." Tezuka slapped down his backpack on a desk, "Can I have a smoke?"

"Why, because everyone thinks you're bending over for the English teacher with a pretty face because you want to nail him?" Fuji half smirked.

"You--" Tezuka felt his nerves flare. "How'd you know about that?"

"I have ears, and when I hear something particularly unpleasant, I remember it." Fuji made his way to his desk and sat. Tezuka fumed, "Especially if that's all I've been hearing, all day."

Tezuka promptly dropped his lighter. "What?"

"Apparently, a lot of your peers think that you want to nail me." Fuji said, still smirking nonchalantly. "Which bothers me a little."

"So you actually think it's true." Tezuka looked at him, "Well, it's not."

"I'm glad." Fuji said airily, in a tone that just pricked Tezuka to no end, as if he did know everything that was worth knowing. "Why don't you have a seat? You can have a smoke once it hits five o' clock."

Tezuka was surprised, and immediately hated himself for it, "Why five?"

"Because I would hate for Sanada-sensei to peek his head in and catch you smoking under my jurisdiction. He's usually gone by five." Again, Fuji sounded supremely disinterested as he stared at the book he was reading, or rather, supposedly reading.

"Why are you letting me smoke?"

"I withdraw my permission."

"Wait--" For a moment, Tezuka almost panicked. "But I need to smoke."

"So smoke, but not until after five." Fuji put down his book momentarily, reaching for a piece of paper, he waved it in Tezuka's general direction.

"In the meantime, here's something to keep you busy."

Fuji resisted a smirk as his student eyed the paper, "I meant to soak it in anthrax this morning. But I forgot."

"What's this?" Tezuka got up and swiped the paper off his desk.

"It's an essay for you to copy on the blackboard." As he spoke, Fuji turned back to his book, "I wrote it in a hurry this morning, but I figure you'd want something more interesting to copy."

Tezuka read (but the moment he started, he knew it was a bad idea.) "Tezuka Kunimitsu is a student in my senior English class, he is an unfortunate, self-righteous bastard who smokes like a chimney, but for some reason still manages to make tennis captain. It's a mystery to me how he does it."

His first reasonable response was to want to bash Fuji's head in, but...of course he couldn't.

"...What does 'smokes like a chimney' mean?"

"It means you smoke, a lot." Fuji returned nonchalantly.

"I do not." Tezuka crossed his arms.

Fuji smiled at him, that infuriating little smile, that didn't help anything, at all. "Really? I beg to differ, every time I see you, you either need a cigarette or are smoking one." And then he looked at his watch and just had to _smile_ again. "Speaking of the devil, it's five."

"You--" But Tezuka couldn't find it in himself to curse. So he simply glared daggers at his teacher as he stalked over to the chalkboard and lit a cigarette.

-

-

"So who is this...Kura-senpai?"

Fuji flinched at the question, and immediately kicked himself for it. There was nothing to be embarrassed about, if he didn't feel the need to be embarrassed about anyone, it was Shiraishi Kuranosuke, his friend was smart, handsome, and knew how to handle himself.

So why was he embarrassed?

Fuji turned his eyes away from Tezuka and buried them in his book. "...He's none of your business."

"Do you like him?"

"I like him."

The scriching on the chalkboard stopped. Fuji mentally prepared himself, because he knew the next time that he looked up, he would see Tezuka's face looming over him.

But no.

Tezuka was still where he was, at the chalkboard, only, he had stopped writing.

"Sensei."

Fuji stared warily at his student's back, Tezuka's voice had suddenly taken on a more serious tone, and for once, it wasn't at all mocking—that worried him.

"Yes?"

"Aren't you supposed to be happy, then?"

Fuji blinked, "Excuse me?"

Tezuka put down the chalk and walked over to his desk, but he didn't snatch away Fuji's book like he had expected, he just sat and stared. "I said, I thought you're supposed to be happy."

"Whoever said I wasn't happy?" Fuji found it easier to glare at him, "Being here proctoring detention for you is not my ideal way to spend an evening."

"Then why am I here?"

"Because you're a bastard that needs to learn your lesson." Fuji returned swiftly. "And why the hell would you care if I was 'happy' or not? Shouldn't it make _you_ happy, if I'm miserable? Don't you hate me, Tezuka-kun?"

Tezuka sighed, "What if I'm miserable?"

Fuji bit his lip, he knew this tactic. He had read plenty of it, in bad books that Yuuta's various girlfriends read in their spare time and left at their house. He was definitely not about to become a victim of cliches if he could help it any. "Then it's your business that you're miserable, it's got nothing to do with me."

Without looking up, he knew the boy had moved closer, close enough so that Fuji could hear him breathing. Tezuka said, "Most people would feel sympathetic."

"For you?" Fuji stared at his desk. "Unfortunately, Tezuka-kun, I'm not most people. I don't pity people because in turn, I'd hate for them to pity me."

"I know. That what makes you interesting, sensei."

Fuji's hand shook as he flipped a page, "I wish...I wasn't quite so interesting."

"That's unfortunate, isn't it?"

"Yes."

A tentative finger brushed Fuji's cheek, and he willed himself not to flinch. "Tezuka-kun. Stop."

The boy did.

"Would you be miserable if I was happy?"

Fuji considered that one, he decided it was not safe to answer, so he asked a question, "Why does your happiness depend so much on my misery?"

Tezuka did not answer.

Fuji looked, and as soon as he had, he wished he hadn't. Because Tezuka dared to lean in three inches and kissed him, much like he had in the bar, but now, Fuji didn't have alcohol to give him an excuse.

It was an excuse Fuji desperately needed because...he liked it. He liked the way that his student (who hated his guts) was kissing him, he liked how warm it was, how intense it was. Obviously, a lot of problems came with that. Fuji was even kissing back--

until his phone rang.

Tezuka pulled away before Fuji could collect himself enough to shove the boy away. He was dazed, and as he pulled out his cell phone to check the number, he didn't recognize the ID.

"Aren't you going to answer the phone?"

Fuji flipped his phone open with shaking hands, "...Hello?"

"Hey, Syusuke, it's me. Yuuta mentioned that you might need a ride home earlier, and I just happened to be on my way." Shiraishi Kuranosuke sounded ever warm and brotherly over the phone. Sometimes, Fuji wished it was just that. "I'll be there in ten minutes or so, think you can manage?"

Somehow, Fuji didn't think there was anything that 'just happened' with Shiraishi, more or less, it was always planned—with Yuuta's help. It was only six now, but he didn't think he could bear to sit here with Tezuka until six-thirty.

"Yeah...I guess I could."

"Great, I'll see you in a couple."

"Bye, Kura-senpai."

Fuji hung up the phone, his eyes shut tight and waited. Tezuka had heard every word, and surely, since the boy was so damn full of himself, he had a snide comment or two.

What finally did come out of Tezuka's mouth was only:

"Do you have to go?"

Fuji wondered what that meant, and then he wished he hadn't wondered. He was not supposed to wonder. He was not supposed to _hope_ that his leaving upset the boy. So he just nodded, "In a couple of minutes. You're free to go, if you want."

Tezuka hesitated.

"Why do you go along with him if you don't like him?"

"It's none of your business." Fuji was careful not to look at his student in the eye as he gathered up his things.

Still, the boy didn't move, "Sensei--"

"No." Hurriedly, Fuji interrupted him before Tezuka could say something that he wasn't supposed to hear. "Don't say it, I don't want to hear it." He walked to the door and yanked it open.

"...I'm locking the door, grab your stuff."

-

-

Tezuka watched his teacher fumble with the keys. There were only a few keys that dangled on Fuji's key ring, but the man's hands were shaking so badly that he continuously missed the key he was looking for.

His teacher's hand was warm, although they still shook. Tezuka said, "...Which key is it?"

The keyring was pressed into his palm and Fuji withdrew his hand quickly, as if it had been bitten by a poisonous snake.

"The copper one."

Tezuka locked the door and handed the keyring back.

Fuji took the keys and still refused to look at him, and when he spoke, even the man's voice shook. "Thanks, Tezuka-kun, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Ah."

Then Tezuka knew he shouldn't have, but he let go. Fuji flipped him a careless wave as he disappeared down the hallway.

-

-

It was only a little past six, but already the night was setting in. Tezuka stood crouched next to a window and watched as a car drove into the teachers' parking lot and stopped. He watched Kura-senpai get out of the car and open the door for Fuji-sensei.

But first, before Tezuka had to watch that, he had to watch the two of them kiss.


	6. Chapter 6

**Putting Out Fires**

AU, TezukaFuji/ Fuji learns the hard way that it's probably not smart to give Tezuka detention.

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**A/N: **First off, a **HUGE HUGE THANKS** to everyone that reviewed! I love you all and you guys helped me get going on this. I had the worst writer's block you wouldn't even know. I'm really trying to get back into the groove of writing and thanks again for everyone's saintly patience! I'm actually really happy with how the last scene turns out, but I don't want to spoil anything so I'll just end the rant here xD.

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Yukimura had a boyfriend, he was a graduate student at Todai, and studied chemical engineering. His name was Yanagi Renji, and if Tezuka had his fair share in things, he hated Yanagi more than he would ever hate Yukimura, simply because the first words out of Yanagi's mouth when Tezuka opened the door were:

"Did you finally run away from home?"

Tezuka swung his bag over his shoulder, "...Not wanting to go home does not constitute in running away from home, Yanagi." He spat the name, clicking on his seatbelt. After that, he flicked the back of Yukimura's head, a rather uncharacteristic move for him...but the day had been shit rotten altogether.

"Why'd you bring him along?"

"He's my boyfriend." Yukimura answered calmly, "I have enough sense not to corrupt little boys who haven't hit puberty, at least."

Tezuka said nothing.

In the rear view mirror, he watched his cousin smirk.

-

-

_Fuji was content. Contentment was a very odd feeling, at least, for now, since nothing really went his way anymore. But he was content here and now, lying in an endless green meadow, with his head lodged snugly on Tezuka's shoulder. Tezuka smelled warm and clean._

_Tezuka was playing with a strand of Fuji's hair, wounding it idly around one finger. _

"_Mou, Tezuka-kun, you're messing up my hair." _

"_I like it messed." Was the calm answer he received in return._

"_I was under the impression that you didn't like anything messy." _

_Tezuka said nothing, finally, he sighed, "So maybe I lied." He said, sounding rather uncertain for the first time, still stroking Fuji's hair._

"_...Or maybe I'm just a convenient exception to all your rules." Fuji smirked a rare smirk, "Aren't I?" _

_Tezuka only looked at him, distant, and knowing all that the same time, "Aren't you?" _

Fuji woke up in a cold sweat. He blinked several times, before realizing that to his horror, there was no green meadow, and no Tezuka. There was instead, a large bed, night outside a locked window, and a shirtless Shiraishi Kuranosuke not all that far away.

Close enough so that Fuji could hear him breathing, actually. Shiraishi smelled wonderfully musky and familiar.

So much so that all Fuji wanted to do was throw up.

Why, why, _why_ had he dreamed something so _nonsensical_, something utterly _pointless..._

It was _disgusting_. So disgusting that his stomach almost lurched.

And yet, Fuji loathed to remember exactly how his chest had tingled.

He curled himself into a ball and clenched his fingers into a tight fist. Fuji closed his eyes and wished for a long, dreamless sleep.

-

-

"Tezuka, it's two in the morning. Do you have a good reason for calling me?" Inui Sadaharu sounded businesslike and, most importantly, awake (even for two in the morning.)

"You'd be awake." Tezuka stated quietly, "I know that much."

"True." Inui agreed amiably over the phone, "But you're awake, why is that?"

"I'm at Yukimura's." As if that explained everything.

And apparently, in the ever ingenious mind of Inui, it said plenty, for he asked no more questions, "And what do you want?"

Tezuka stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling looming threateningly above him. Inui asked that question with so much confidence, that he would undoubtedly deliver what Tezuka wanted—with a price. Inui Sadaharu was one of those people that could give you anything—with a price.

"I want Fuji-sensei's phone number."

There was a long, long pause over the phone.

"I thought you might."

Tezuka winced, "What's that supposed to mean, Inui?" He said, keeping his voice even.

Inui said, "Well, you were just short of being blatantly obvious. It's not like you at all, but then, you never cease to amaze me."

Tezuka bit his tongue.

"I have his number, I thought you'd ask for it last week, so I thought it would be good idea to have it handy. Pity you didn't ask for it then."

"Inui."

"It's not like I lost it. Calm down." Inui said, "Just let me look for it. I'll give you his address too, just for fun."

It was one of those rare moments when Tezuka appreciated Inui's humor.

Tezuka lay back again. It was obvious that Yanagi and Yukimura never made use of the guest bedroom. The sheets weren't exactly fresh, but at least they were clean. Which made him wonder exactly how those two got along.

"Found it."

-

-

Fuji didn't want to risk going back to sleep, so he rolled out of bed and grabbed a spare blanket to wrap around his shoulders. It was unexpectedly cold, or maybe Shiraishi was warm-blooded enough not to keep the heater running at night.

Fuji stood. Shiraishi really had a nice apartment, and he obviously took pride in making sure everything was top class. But unlike Fuji's rather obnoxious cousin, Atobe, Shiraishi didn't make him feel terrible for not being rich, or cultivated.

His phone was ringing. It was lying on Shiraishi's nightstand and Fuji stared at it blearily. It was getting on to be well past two, and whenever he received a phone call at such a ridiculous hour, it usually meant Yuuta had gotten into some sort of trouble.

The number wasn't one he realized.

"...Hello."

There was faint breathing at the other end.

"Hello?" Fuji tried again.

"Sensei."

Fuji dropped the phone, it landed soundlessly on Shiraishi's newly cleaned Italian carpet. Sensei. Only one person called him that, only one person who dared to mock his title would dare to call him at two in the morning. Swallowing hard, Fuji picked up the phone.

"How did you get this number?"

"Why does it matter?"

Fuji closed his eyes and sighed deeply, "Because I'm your teacher, and it's not normal for students to call their teachers on their cell phones at two in the morning? Unless you're in some kind of trouble, are you in trouble, Tezuka-kun?"

"I'm not in trouble."

"Then what do you want?"

"Why do you always think I want something?"

"Because you do." Fuji walked out into the darkened hallway, where he sank down against the wall. "You want something from me, I don't want to give it to you, and therefore, you make it your life mission to make my life a miserable hell. And because of your darling grandfather, you could do it too."

"What do you think I want from you?" Tezuka said.

Fuji's lips twitched, "You want something from me that I can't give, all right? I'm going to bed."

"...Sensei."

"What?"

"You're exasperating."

"So are you."

Fuji bit his lip, he rubbed one hand against his cheek and realized that they were unnaturally warm.

And then Tezuka said:

"I think I miss you."

His first instinct was to cry, no one ever said things like that, not even Shiraishi, who loved him more than anything else. It was Tezuka that told him that he was missed. Tezuka, who got on his nerves all day. Even without _doing_ anything.

"That's why I can't sleep."

Fuji hung up with what he hoped was a decisive beep.

After hanging up, he practically ran back into the bedroom and buried himself in the familiar arms of Shiraishi...who, thankfully, was a very heavy sleeper.

-

-

"I feel like calling in sick."

Shiraishi rubbed his back soothingly, "Why? Didn't you sleep well?"

It was times like this, when Fuji wished that he was in love with someone as wonderful, and as caring, as Shiraishi Kuranosuke. And he almost convinced himself that he was, too. Shiraishi's arms were tight around him and even without the presence of many blankets, he was warm.

"I did...it's just..." Fuji grinned a sleepy grin, "You're not making getting out of bed easy for me. Lying through his teeth again, but he was getting better at this every day. "Besides, I haven't taken one yet."

Shiraishi laughed and kissed his forehead. "Well, fine, do what you want. You're more than welcome to stay here, but I have to go to work. There's a patient coming in for a bypass today, and I have to assist."

"Well, at least you have a job that you like." Fuji mumbled into a pillow.

Shiraishi raised an eyebrow, "...Syusuke, you're so temperamental."

Fuji stared up at him, "...I guess I am. Do you think you can drop me off at home?"

Shiraishi let out a dazzling laugh, "Not exactly on my way, but for my little princess, I'm sure I can manage."

Fuji sat up. Tezuka would never say something so sentimental like that, princess. As soon as he thought the thought, he promptly slapped himself. Scrambling out of bed, he raked a hurried hand through his hair, "I"ll hurry up, wouldn't want to make you late now, would I?"

-

-

Fuji-sensei was not at school. Tezuka had walked into English class and found a wizened old man in the place of his teacher. As soon as he had walked in, he had walked out, and had collected Ryoma from his Japanese class, and the younger boy was altogether too happy to oblige.

Tezuka wondered about that, if his phone call had scared his teacher permanently away from Seishun Gakuen. In all honesty, Tezuka didn't think so. Fuji-sensei was stubborn to a fault—so much so that it took a phone call at two in the morning to shake him up.

"Kunimitsu."

Ryoma had taken his hand without him noticing, and the first thing that came to mind to do was to panic. Tezuka wasn't really given to gestures of affection, unless it was in private and no one could see. They were on school grounds now, and thus, not private.

"What?"

"What do you think about Fuji-sensei?"

Tezuka paused. Even if, he had been nothing short of blatantly obvious to Inui, there was no possible way that Ryoma could decipher things up to Inui's level of logic.

"He's interesting." He replied vaguely.

"Is that why you never skip detention with him?"

Tezuka sighed, "Ryoma, don't make this difficult for me."

They were sitting side by side under a tree that afforded them plenty of shade and enough privacy, but Tezuka still couldn't help feeling a little bit wary. Ryoma, in a rush of possessiveness, had christened it their tree, although Tezuka found it a little amusing.

"You like him, don't you?"

Tezuka said nothing, he felt Ryoma's thumb rub at his palm. He couldn't bring himself to answer. He didn't exactly know why, but it seemed that 'like' was too simple a word to pin down the exact emotions he held towards Fuji Syusuke, a man who enthralled him way too easily.

Perhaps it was just that, he was enthralled to follow, like a lamb to certain slaughter.

"But I love you." Ryoma said, drawing Tezuka from his thoughts once more, "Kunimitsu, I'll love you more than he'll ever love you. Fuji-sensei hates you. He rips on you all the time, doesn't he?"

This was the first time Tezuka had ever heard Ryoma beg. Probably because the boy had too much pride, if there was one thing he learned from being with Tezuka all the time.

Still, Tezuka said nothing.

-

-

Fuji spent a relaxing day at home, reading and grading papers. Yuuta had called once to check up on him, because Fuji knew if he had not faked a cold, he was pretty positive his younger brother would have flown into a tirade otherwise. Shiraishi had been a darling too, he had delivered lunch on his break, although Fuji could have sworn he insisted otherwise.

So when the door bell rang, he was surprised, Yuuta had his own key, and Shiraishi usually always tried the door first and if the door wasn't open, he'd call in until someone answered.

"Coming."

But when he unlocked the door, Fuji did a double take.

Tezuka Kunimitsu stood there, looking rather sheepish. Looking past him, Fuji saw a taxi parked inconspicuously around the corner.

"Tezuka...kun? What are you doing here?"

"I..." For the first time in Fuji's memory, his student hesitated, "I figured you were sick."

"That still does not explain how you got my address." Fuji said, trying to keep his voice even while his heart nearly pounded its way out of his rib cage altogether. He almost couldn't breathe.

"If I could get your phone number, your address is easy." Tezuka said, "I can get anything I want."

How true that was, Fuji thought wryly, as he considered slamming the door in Tezuka's face. "That's not true." He said, "If you came here with nothing intelligent to say, they I suggest you leave."

Tezuka said nothing.

"I want to know what it _means_, sensei."

Fuji swallowed a rising lump in his throat, "What?"

"When I said I missed you, I meant it." The words came out hesitantly, as if Tezuka had to force them out one by one. "And you were awake to answer."

"That doesn't mean anything, Tezuka-kun."

Tezuka bit his lip, "Yes, it does."

Fuji stepped one step backwards, so he was safely back in his hallway, "What does it mean?"

"I don't know."

Before he lost it, Fuji groped for the door handle. "Leave." He said, although he knew his voice was not completely steady. "I don't know what it means. I don't want to know."

"Is it because I'm seventeen?"

That made Fuji pause. Seventeen wasn't all that far away from twenty-three, but still the fact remained that the only reason Tezuka Kunimitsu even came to his attention was because he had fractured Oishi's wrist. And even if the boy hadn't been under his jurisdiction, it was hardly an ideal way to start any sort of relationship.

"No, Tezuka-kun."

"Then what?"

"I just can't." Fuji said, "So go away and just leave me alone." He just had to add, "Like you should."

"I'm not good at that, doing things I should be."

Fuji said, "You should start."

The boy sighed, "You're stubborn."

That made Fuji smile, just a little. "You wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

"So you lured me here." Tezuka shook his head, "How very mature of you, sensei."

"I didn't lure you anyplace. You chose to come here of your own discretion." Fuji said.

"Sensei, let's start over."

Fuji closed his eyes tight and leaned against the doorknob. "We never even started." He said softly.

Without him knowing it, Tezuka had pried his hand from the knob and he was holding him. Fuji thought that his student was also warm and familiar, yet completely different from Shiraishi.

"So why can't we start?" The words tickled the top of Fuji's hair.

"Because I'm stubborn, and we can't. That's all."

Fuji felt Tezuka smirk with his lips buried in his hair. "...I have an advantage, sensei."

"What advantage?" Fuji's face felt unnaturally warm, like it had with the phone call.

"I'm more stubborn than you." Just as suddenly, Tezuka broke away, and it left Fuji temporarily at a loss as his arms dropped limply back to his side. "I'll see you at school tomorrow, sensei."


	7. Chapter 7

**Putting Out Fires**

AU, TezukaFuji/ Fuji learns the hard way that it's probably not smart to give Tezuka detention.

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**A/N:** I'd originally planned to have this chapter up by yesterday, but it didn't work out, so here it is today! I'm really proud of this installment, so I hope you guys enjoy it too. Thanks and lots of love to everyone who reviewed, seriously, you guys are so the best haha. I'm absolutely floored by the response this little fiction of mine is getting.

On a random note, if anyone has anything to say about this, I'd love to hear what you think: do you like the tension between Atobe and Fuji here in Fires, or Lost Fantasies? I'm just kind of experimenting with different elements of tension here...or is there even a difference? 0.o

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* * *

If Yuuta had any inkling what was going on, he didn't let it show. He came home, and seemed to accept Fuji's explanation that it was just a passing spell of sorts and he was feeling better now. He had hastily refused Yuuta's tentative suggestion to have Shiraishi over for dinner again saying that he had already troubled the man enough throughout his day.

Yuuta just looked very wise about nothing at all, and permitted his older brother to rest until dinner. Which was very restful, until Fuji heard the doorbell rang. His first instinct was to hide, in case Tezuka found enough nerve to trespass his sanctuary again, but the person that walked—sauntered in the room was none other than--

"You're worrying your mother half sick, Syusuke."

Fuji looked around for something hard to throw, but unfortunately, couldn't find anything. He sighed, feeling the veins in his forehead prickle. "She's practically adopted you, why should I matter?"

Atobe Keigo was only a few months younger than he was, they were born in the same year. Fuji's birthday was in February, and Atobe's birthday was in October, the few months that Fuji had ahead of Atobe gave his slightly younger cousin an inferiority complex in almost everything else, and he strove to be better than Fuji in every other thing conceivable.

And he had largely succeeded. Atobe too, had attended Todai, but beyond that, he had studied abroad in Yale and Columbia respectively, graduated early, and now stood poised to take over one of the largest corporations in Japan, the said corporation even had his name on it: Atobe Enterprises.

Yet he still found time to come and be a nuisance. Yuuta shot Fuji an apologetic look when Atobe wasn't looking and began a hasty retreat to the kitchen.

"Doesn't change the fact that she's your mother."

Fuji put down his book. "That doesn't mean anything."

Atobe said, "This is not like you."

"Then what's like me?" Despite himself, he was suddenly angry, "You can't just waltz in here and tell me that! Okay, fine, so you've become my mother's dog. So what?" His voice rose one hysteric notch, "It doesn't matter! It doesn't matter, okay? Just get the hell out of here before I call the police on you!"

Threateningly, he reached for the house phone.

He hadn't gone through so much already, with Shiraishi, with Tezuka, he couldn't handle Atobe, nor did he want to.

Atobe looked like he didn't know what to do with himself. He did one thing, though, to infuriate Fuji further—he refused to look chastised. Even though he should be.

"Fuji--"

"Get out." Fuji said, trying very hard to keep his voice from wavering, "Just get out. I don't want to talk to you."

This time, Atobe's face looked like a hurt puppy, and he moped out. For someone as imposing as Atobe Keigo, it was funny, really. But somehow, Fuji couldn't quite trust himself to laugh.

A few seconds later, the door to the house slammed, and Fuji got up and went to his bedroom.

-

-

"Aniki...?" It was a little later, that Yuuta eventually worked up the courage to peek into his brother's bedroom. The older Fuji was lying flat on his bed, on his stomach, idly his phone on. And off.

Yuuta hesitated. He didn't have to be a genius to figure out that Fuji was genuinely upset. And when Fuji was genuinely upset...it was usually a better course of action to leave him alone until he came to—but this was different, usually, it wasn't Atobe at the heart of the moodswings, all Yuuta really knew was the fact that Fuji had an intense, innate hatred when it came to their showy cousin.

Well, Yuuta himself didn't really mind Atobe so much...but it always came to it that he was much, much too loyal to his older brother.

"Aniki, are you okay?"

There was a long pause, and then, Fuji's voice, muffled by a pillow he was holding, informed Yuuta, "I'm pissed off." It was an inelegant answer, very much unlike his brother, but Yuuta supposed everyone had to eventually let their hair down.

"I'm sorry." He said, feeling very awkward and guilty all at once, I shouldn't have let him in...I..."

"Yuuta, it wasn't your fault." Fuji said, just as tonelessly, "Stop it."

After a few more ginger steps, Yuuta found himself at the foot of the bed, and lowered himself down on the edge, eyes fixed on the still lump for any sign that he shouldn't be.

"...But I made you upset."

"Atobe made me upset." Fuji corrected dully.

"Aniki--"

"Just stop it, okay?"

It was almost like a proverbial slap in the face, but Yuuta held still. It was certainly not the first time, and almost certainly, not the last. So he did what he always did, Yuuta laid a hand gently on his brother's shoulder, and counted silently to five.

Then he stood up.

"Dinner's still on the stove if you want anything." Yuuta paused again, "I think I might be going out."

"With who?"

Whenever Fuji asked him that, it made Yuuta blush, he wasn't sure why, but he rubbed at his cheeks and shrugged. "No one in particular. I just feel like going. Would you mind?"

"No." But Fuji did raised his head to look at him, "Will you be back before eleven?"

"Don't you think I'm a little too old for curfew?" Yuuta had to grin, just a little.

Fuji laughed, but it was a laugh that sent chills up Yuuta's spine. "No, I'm just asking. Being around high schoolers all day does that to me...if you're staying out, remember to take your keys with you. I'm probably going to sleep early. That's all."

"Oh, okay." Yuuta smiled at him, "...Well, I'll see you later, or tomorrow. Maybe. Feel better, alright?"

"Mm."

-

-

It never did occur to Fuji that he didn't know how to be alone. Perhaps it was because he was with people all the time, so he had most ultimately failed to notice anything, but the house suddenly seemed much too quiet sans Yuuta, and the dining room table seemed all at once, too big for one person.

To remedy that, Fuji carried his bowl of curry into the living and settled on the couch. He flipped through channels twice before coming to the inevitable conclusion that there was nothing interesting running.

He ate slowly though, in no hurry. The curry was spicy enough to leave a faint burn in the back of his throat, Fuji usually liked his curry this way, and was gratified that Yuuta bothered enough to make it just the way he liked.

And his phone rang. Fuji fished the device from his pocket and stared at it for a long time.

The simple text read:

_Miss me yet? 7:37 pm_

It angered him. But Fuji wasn't exactly sure what it was. It could have been too many things that it couldn't be. The source of his anger could have been easily just Tezuka, and his impudence.

But...

Almost just as easily, Fuji realized that his anger might have stemmed from that warm feeling kindling in his chest, a warmth that was spreading all too quickly to paint his cheeks.

_No. 7:41 pm_

Fuji was about to go back to the kitchen with his empty bowl when his phone buzzed irritatingly at him. As if scolding him for leaving.

_I bet you're thinking about me. 7:43 pm_

The comment sent a spark of irritation through Fuji's whole system. There was just something irrecoverably wrong with Tezuka texting him something like that. As if the boy just knew without any doubt whatsoever, that it was true.

His mind immediately drifted to Tezuka lunged out on some couch, smoking a cigarette, and of course, Echizen Ryoma had to be nearby wearing his satisfied little smirk.

Fuji's fingers pounded on the keys, as if the keys themselves could somehow be blamed for the anger he was feeling.

Tezuka beat him to it. Fuji's phone rang mockingly at him. And Tezuka's number, though still a number that wasn't saved, and a number that he didn't know by memory...was quickly becoming a number that was too familiar.

He snapped open his phone, meaning business, but when Fuji held up the phone to his ear, Tezuka said:

"So you do miss me." And for some frightening reason, Tezuka didn't sound condescending at all, "I was almost afraid that you wouldn't."

It was a admission that shouldn't have had the ability to make Fuji's spine crawl the way it did. But it _did_. That angered him, and Fuji bit hard through his tongue, silence certainly was the best policy when one was at a loss for words.

Undeterred, Tezuka tried again, "Sensei, I made you angry again, didn't I?"

Still, Fuji refused to say anything. He thought his tongue was bleeding.

"You can yell, if you'd like."

Now, that made the back of his eyes burn. If Tezuka really meant to rile him, the boy had largely succeeded, in doing that—and something else. His eyes welled, and Fuji got up to get a wad of tissues, now he didn't speak, because he was afraid that his voice would betray him.

"...Sensei?"

Fuji swallowed hard. Quite inconveniently, he remembered how Tezuka's arms had felt around him, and dabbed his eyes roughly with the tissue.

"Tezuka-kun, why do you_ do _this to me?" Fuji knew his words were uneven, but he knew, at the very least, that his voice had not been shaking when he spoke.

For a moment, the other end of the line was silent. After sometime, Tezuka offered the most excruciatingly tender voice that he could manage, the voice alone, made Fuji eyes want to leak rivers. He went blindly groping for some more tissue.

"You sound tired. Get some sleep."

And that was all.

-

-

Even though he was only fifteen years old, Echizen Ryoma prided himself on knowing a lot of things. Even things that he didn't want to know, like how Tezuka Kunimitsu had changed.

Sure, his boyfriend was seventeen, an age that still seemed far away to Ryoma. He _knew,_ that sometimes he was immature, and...sometimes he couldn't live up to the many expectations that Tezuka had of him. Ryoma was aware, too, that there was a price when you hung on Tezuka Kunimitsu's arm.

No matter if he thought you were an adorable brat. Ryoma was smart enough to know that he wasn't the only one capable of taking the part of a spoiled brat. There were most certainly others.

And also possibly others that enjoyed the same privileges that he did. This annoyed him, irritation came before worry. Because the changes that had somehow managed to manifest themselves in Tezuka were just that, small, and _irritating_.

Like how Tezuka used to look at him when he entered his boyfriend's bedroom, now he just stared at the ceiling. Not that it really mattered, it wasn't like Tezuka ignored him for a long period of time or something like that. Ryoma was smart enough to know how to make himself known.

"What are you thinking about?"

Tezuka didn't seem to mind it when Ryoma crawled over his body to get to the empty side of the bed. It bugged him—just a little, that Tezuka hadn't seemed to note it, either.

It was only when Ryoma put his hand on Tezuka's cheek did the older boy turn.

"Is Grandfather home?"

Ryoma concentrated on tucking a stray strand of hair behind Tezuka's ear, "You're the one that told me he's not going to be home tonight."

There was a delayed pause, and Tezuka said, "...I forgot."

Ryoma made a sound, sort of like a snort, but his olive eyes were dark. "Sure."

"I did. You know I'm getting old." Tezuka insisted quietly, as his eyes came around to snake around Ryoma's waist. Usually this calmed him, but tonight, this simple act of intimacy unsettled the younger boy. But as usual, in front of Tezuka, who he loved more than anyone else in the world...he kept still.


	8. Chapter 8

**Putting Out Fires**

AU, TezukaFuji/ Fuji learns the hard way that it's probably not smart to give Tezuka detention.

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**A/N:** Happy Chinese New Year!--to those who celebrate it, I sort of do, and I sort of don't, but this year, I made myself some rice cake so I guess that counts.

So...yeah, for those who have lost hope for me, let's just say that yes, I have fallen off the edge of the Earth, and a lot of things have been going on. I'm sorry that I have not been able to write as much as I'd like to. My stories are for the most part, not dead...they're just going at a turtle's pace. But as always, I love you guys for all your reviews and support! Honestly, they keep me going. :)

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The thin slivers of sun fluttering inside his bedroom told Fuji it was indeed morning. With a groan, he burrowed deeper into his covers and pulled the blankets over his head. He wanted to stay home today, but damn it, he was a teacher, and he was not going to set a bad example for his students. Although knowing certain students, his example was going to go unappreciated either way.

So he got up and dressed. A light blue shirt and dress slacks, because if he dressed more professionally, they might see that he meant business. And he did mean business, no more playing around. He was going to be a mature adult today, or die trying.

Breakfast was already made for him, along with a note from Yuuta.

_Aniki--_

_Good morning, and sorry I missed you. I got in late last night, and Minami-san had an emergency so I had to leave early. I'll see you later today though. Be good, and don't skip school._

_Love, Yuuta._

Fuji hated how much his little brother understood, sometimes. He folded the note and stuffed it in his pocket. Then, he ladled a small bowl of porridge and flipped through the morning paper.

-

-

His classroom was empty when he arrived, but Fuji had to stop and stare at the package and the flowers on his desk. Someone---and he didn't want to dwell on who. Had thought enough of him to sneak in early and put them there. (How this mystery admirer got in the room was something Fuji didn't want to think about.)

The flowers were a bundle of fresh lilies. Fuji stared at them for a moment, and then spotted a little card folded neatly next to the bouquet.

It read simply:

_To one who inspires. _

Fuji's face warmed, and then he put the card back on the desk.

He didn't know when Tezuka learned to do those things. It was really, really annoying...especially when he allowed himself to fall for them...sort of. Or really, not at all.

Before he could change his mind, he opened the cabinet and shoved the gifts inside. Then, he promised himself not to think about it the rest of the day. Instead, Fuji picked up light blue chalk, and proceeded to scrawl the day's lesson plans on the board—something he never did, but it was distracting enough that he was thankful.

-

-

Second period rolled around and it found Tezuka Kunimitsu out of his usual place. Rather than waste his time wasting away (no pun intended, really) in the last seat by the window in Japanese class, he made much better use of his time roaming the empty hallways and enjoying a well-deserved cigarette.

He didn't really consider himself an addict, but it was a vice, and because the world was cruel, Tezuka Kunimitsu found himself succumbing to those vices like anyone else. He wasn't a damn saint that everyone was always trying to make him out to be...and he had to go without smoke because Ryoma had spent the night.

Ryoma could not stand the smell of smoke...not for long periods of time, anyway.

Fuji though, Tezuka realized that he hadn't been around the older man enough to make a judgment. Going by what he knew though, Fuji seemed the type to frequent places that twenty-somethings always did...occasionally, and his Kura-senpai person seemed like the goody-two-shoes type. Fuji would probably hate the smell of cigarettes too.

Or perhaps he was just that way because he wanted to score with Fuji-sensei. If anything...Tezuka thought that Fuji-sensei was rather finicky when it came to his partners.

Pausing briefly in his musings, he stopped in the doorway of his 'favorite' English classroom, where his 'favorite' English professor sat determinedly bent over a book. Tezuka almost wanted to see him bend determinedly over other things.

But you couldn't force these things.

Tezuka leaned idly against the doorframe and blew smoke.

"That wasn't funny this morning."

Tezuka paused, looking away from the wispy cloud to Fuji at his desk. The man hadn't moved, but he was pretty sure that Fuji had spoken. He shrugged one vague shoulder, if this was the way Fuji-sensei wanted to play it, it was certain unfair of him not to tag along.

"What wasn't?"

Fuji's shoulders were tense, Tezuka let himself bask in that victory, which was sweet until Fuji said:

"You broke in here this morning, I have sufficient evidence, and even Ryuzaki can't protect you from expulsion if she wanted to."

"What exactly is the evidence?" Tezuka crossed his arms, if he said so himself, he had done a neat job this morning, and it was even more noteworthy because he had worked alone, and it was early in the morning. So what evidence...?

"I could run you in for harassment, you know."

"It's not considered harassment if the other party is perfectly willing." Tezuka let himself in and clicked the lock behind him. "You've never told me you didn't like me doing any of those things. I thought you enjoyed the attention."

That brought an abrupt blush to Fuji's cheeks, and Tezuka watched the teacher hurriedly rub his cheeks.

"I never asked you do any of these things, Tezuka-kun." Fuji's voice almost wavered, but his tone was steady, and the blue eyes that glared at him were hard, "I thought you knew better, I thought you were more mature, above these things."

"I'm mature." Tezuka returned evenly.

"You are not mature." Fuji said, returning to his book with an air of obvious disinterest. "A mature person wouldn't think to pursue such a stupid hobby. I'm sure you have better things to do than trying to annoy your teachers to death."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?" Tezuka made his way to behind Fuji's chair, where he could see that the book that his teacher was reading from was English...obviously. Most of the words looked archaic and unfamiliar, perhaps it was a historical novel. (Or maybe Tezuka's English indeed was helpless, the one thing Ryoma continuously lorded over him because he had lived there for most of his childhood.)

"No," Fuji's reply was surprisingly quick, "I have no idea what you're doing, but I don't like it. So you, like the mature person that you claim to be, should stop it."

"Then I think you're pathetic."

Fuji bit his tongue hard enough that he tasted blood.

"If you don't have anything constructive to say, please get out of my classroom before I send you to the principal."

"And what exactly do you think the principal will do to me?"

Fuji suddenly wanted to slap Tezuka. Good and hard across the face so that he couldn't look so stern and smug with his mouth bruised. But his professional self would not allow it. Apparently, Tezuka Kunimitsu was quite convinced that Ryuzaki Sumire worshiped the ground he walked on...and thus, this gave him the leave to trample over everyone.

And Tezuka was probably right.

Fuji was suddenly tired again. He laid his head down on the desk, and the flat surface of the wood felt cold and made his cheek prickle.

"What do you want from me? Do you want revenge because I gave you detention?"

"Do you honestly think I'm that shallow?" Tezuka brushed a hand through Fuji's hair, it was soft and silky, like he had imagined it to be. "I thought you knew me better."

"Quite the contrary, I don't think I know you at all."

"But I want you to know me."

Tezuka's voice sounded warm, particularly when he had his eyes closed. Fuji forced them open and stared at Tezuka's other hand settled on his desk. The hand brushing through his hair, he tried hard to ignore. "This is inappropriate." He felt like a cornered rat.

"I know."

"Is that why?" Fuji hazarded. After all, this wasn't reasonable. It was utterly illogical. He would have expected this from other people...Oishi, the golden boy, maybe...and maybe even Saeki, who was always eager to help...but Tezuka? It made no sense.

"Why can't you just accept that I like you?"

He _liked_ him.

Fuji hadn't been told something that frank ever since the junior year of high school. Even Shiraishi didn't dare say something like that. "Because I can't." Despite himself, he felt his cheeks warm up again.

"You can't, or you don't want to?"

"I..." Fuji trailed off, "Why does it matter? I don't want to."

"Of course it matters." Tezuka insisted, "You said you didn't want to just now, but you did say you can't. Which is it?"

Fuji refused to look at him, "There's no reason for you to like me. I'm sure if your Echizen-kun finds out about your little infatuation with me, isn't he going to be angry?"

"Not everything needs a reason. _Romeo and Juliet_ certainly weren't reasonable."

This was getting nowhere, and Fuji was glad, he'd be concerned—and out of a job, if it got somewhere. He got up, and brushed Tezuka's hand away from his hair. "Precisely why I hate that book."

"Where are you going?"

"Teacher's workroom. Somewhere where I know you'll have no choice but to leave me alone."

But before Fuji could move another step, a pair of arms trapped him. And suddenly, Tezuka's was close enough so that Fuji could smell fresh shampoo and cologne.

"What does Kura-senpai have that that I don't have?"

The question stopped him short. "Kura-senpai and I aren't dating." Fuji said, glad for a hard fact, rather than everything concentrating on how he _felt,_ at the moment. Fuji didn't know, nor did he particularly want to know, what he was feeling at this moment.

"Then why?" The arms tightened around him, and to his surprise, Fuji found one of his own hands gripping Tezuka's.

"Because I'm not reckless, like you." Fuji said, after a brief silence, and his tone was almost remorseful, "I like to be safe, and whatever this is...with you, isn't safe." The edge of his lips curled into a smirk, "I'm not stupid, Tezuka-kun, not enough to become one of your novel trophies that you run out of school once you tire of them."

"Do you honestly think of me like that?"

Fuji nodded his head stubbornly, refusing to give in, "Yes. And nothing you say—or do," he added with a fairly even voice, "will convince me otherwise, so come off it, right now. It's immature, and I thought you were better than that."

Tezuka nuzzled the back of his neck, a gesture that sent an unwarranted shiver down to the base of Fuji's spine. "I'm nothing but a child to you, aren't I, Fuji-sensei?"

"I..." For a moment, his resolve faltered. Whenever Shiraishi tried something like that, the wicked little thrill had not lingered...like this. But Fuji pulled himself together, and tried to push away, but Tezuka's arms were suddenly like iron chains holding him in place.

"Tezuka-kun, someone'll see--"

"I don't _care_."

And then, just like that, Tezuka leaned forward a precarious inch, just like he had before, but this time, unlike all the other times, Fuji felt like he was soaring on air instead of drowning in an unfathomable whirlpool.

"I"m trying to give you something, don't you see? Something you'll never give yourself because you'll never be able to live with it." Tezuka pulled away, and for once, Fuji noted that up close, his eyes were warm.

The kiss told him that he could have anything he wanted. That he was a free person, and even if he was a teacher, he could let his student steal a kiss in broad daylight—in a classroom. It was enough, he didn't need to try so hard.

"I'm not convinced." Fuji finally managed, although his voice was husky, and he hated the fact that Tezuka could make him sound like that.

Tezuka took a casual step back.

"May I convince you?"

"Maybe." Fuji couldn't quite bring himself to look up. "I could stand to give you one chance. Don't screw it up."

Tezuka had a brilliant smile. "I'll pick you up at eight." And then he let himself out, but his smile lingered, it dazzled Fuji to the point of sheer wonder; and he wore a stupid smile for the rest of the day.


	9. Chapter 9

**Putting Out Fires**

AU, TezukaFuji/ Fuji learns the hard way that it's probably not smart to give Tezuka detention.

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**A/N:** Sooo...yeah. An update like eight days after! Are you guys proud of me or what? xD. I'm sorry for all my other stories going really slow, muses really have been dry lately, I blame it on the start of the new semester term and evil physics professors that should just go die. But for some reason, it's been really easily to write for this story lately. And I'm actually happy with this chapter too! It looks like I"m getting the hang of things again. Thanks for getting me past the 200 mark!! You guys rock!!

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Fuji Yuuta was, if anything, amused at the antics that his older brother was putting on. His brother never really cared much about his appearance prior to a date, he usually rested confidently on the assurance that he looked good in whatever he put on. To Shiraishi, it certainly wouldn't have mattered.

Which meant...

Yuuta paused, he had been musing in front of the stove, where he was stirring a pot of warm vegetable stew. He left his post momentarily, to peek into his brother's bedroom, where Fuji was currently rifling through the contents of his closet, looking very disgruntled.

"..Aniki?" Yuuta asked softly, "Is everything, um, all right?"

Fuji whirled around, and he wore a guilty smile, "...Oh, Yuuta. " And he looked everywhere but his younger brother in the doorway while searching for an acceptable answer, "I'm fine, really. I just have to go out in a bit and I realize I really don't have time to."

Yuuta raised an eyebrow, "So call Shiraishi-san and reschedule? He understands, doesn't he?"

"I..." For the second time in too little time, Fuji was at a loss for words. But he knew he was nowhere near ready to admit to Yuuta—who had been adamant on Shiraishi and Fuji's getting together—that he really held no particular interest towards his senpai and instead, found his student, who was seventeen and tried to grow up too fast, absolutely fascinating.

"Well, I feel bad. I'm always canceling on him..."

"But you're busy. Shiraishi-san knows that." Yuuta reasoned.

Perhaps that was it, Shiraishi Kuranosuke understood him, and tolerated him for all of his imperfections, saying that he didn't have to fix every imperfection that chained him to his responsibilities. It simply didn't matter.

Tezuka though, he had a long list of complaints about Fuji. Most of which that he accepted his limitations that other people set for him. He refused to climb to another height that he could have too easily owned.

There was whole other world waiting for him there.

Fuji grabbed his jacket and slung it over his shoulder, "I know, but I still feel bad." He repeated lamely as he brushed past his brother, "Don't wait up for me, I don't know what time I'll be back."

"Oh. Okay then."

--

Fuji supposed he shouldn't be too surprised that an unassuming car stopped at the corner of his street, with Tezuka at the wheel. The boy probably got his address the same way he had gotten hold of his phone number, and Fuji thought it was safer not to ask, although his own house (even if Yuuta was there) suddenly didn't feel quite so welcoming and safe.

"What's wrong now?" Tezuka asked, getting out of the car.

"Nothing." Fuji was quick to reply with a shake of his head, "It's just...you didn't steal this car, did you?"

"No, it's my grandfather's car." Tezuka said with a shrug.

"...Does he know you've taken it?" Fuji pressed with a stern look. Even if he was going to go against his morals and break countless evenings, he could still try to act the part of a so-called responsible adult.

"Of course he doesn't. He's in France and won't be back until next week. I have the house to myself." Tezuka actually sounded too proud about it. The mention of an empty house made Fuji shiver.

Fuji said nothing for a moment, and then he shook his head, "That's stealing." He turned, "I'm not going."

He got two steps, until Tezuka's voice, sharp and commanding in a way he didn't quite recognize, stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Why do you always do this, sensei?"

Fuji stopped, but forced himself to stare at a convenient crack in the sidewalk. "Do what?"

"This...whatever this is, I"m not sure what you're doing. But apparently, you seem to enjoy acting like a prude in the most inappropriate times, and I can't say I approve of it." The boy's tone was unexpectedly scathing. "You know perfectly well that I know that you're otherwise."

"So." Fuji felt his face burn, "if you're implying that I'm easy, that gives me more of a reason to go, doesn't it? It's not like I do this casually." In fact, Fuji didn't do this at all.

And suddenly, he wondered if he had made a horrible, horrible mistake giving such a sacred privilege to Tezuka. Fuji didn't like Shiraishi, particularly, but at least the older man wasn't a pain to have around and he was stable, and employed a somewhat reasonable sense of logic.

Perhaps that was what made Tezuka so fascinating to Fuji.

"You shouldn't put words like that in my mouth. I'd never say them."

Fuji turned, only to be trapped again in arms that were becoming far too familiar too soon. For once, he remained and let his own arms fall around Tezuka.

"You should stop doing this to me." He mumbled, "I'll grow to like it too much."

He could have sworn he felt Tezuka smile too, against his hair.

--

To Fuji's surprise (and -almost- disappointment) they didn't stop in front of a fancy restaurant, instead, they stopped at a park, where there was not another soul in sight. Fuji almost got goosebumps at how still it was. He glanced at the boy beside him, Tezuka turned out to be a ridiculously safe driver, but just because he was that didn't allow Fuji to let his guard down.

"...Sensei?"

"Mm?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Fuji quickly turned away, "It's just...I didn't figure you for the type for peace and quiet."

"Only with certain people."

"...I'm one of them?"

He received a gentle kiss for his question, although it wasn't quite a proper answer that he had been expecting to receive, but it left Fuji lightheaded, and red-faced.

Tezuka kept a hand cupped around his cheek, "I made dinner if you feel like eating."

"You made...?" Fuji was dumbfounded, "You cook?" Somehow, the spoiled image of Tezuka Kunimitsu in his head had him surrounded by thousands of servants to attend to all of his whims...not unlike a certain cousin Fuji disliked, a lot.

Which led to Tezuka to fix his teacher with a very sour look.

"You don't honestly think there are countless servants scuttling around in my house, do you? Grandfather doesn't approve. Not burning down the kitchen was a necessity if I didn't want to live on microwave food."

His smile towards the older man was a wanly amused one, "You're really funny. Come on."

--

Echizen Ryoma lay still, it was too quiet, and the silence was loud in his ears. When Karupin the cat mewled for more catnip, it set him jumping five feet into the air, and he almost fell off the bed, catching himself in the nick of time. He glared at the cat, who thumped her tail enthusiastically and meowed some more.

Ryoma was feeling very, very out of sorts as he rubbed a tired hand through his mussed hair, he even felt like snapping at Karupin, something he never did, for disrupting the silence that he so hated.

And Ryoma wasn't stupid. He knew why, he knew what was going on. Him being two years younger than his boyfriend who pretended to know everything had no bearings on anything...at least, when your father was a self-proclaimed pervert.

So he learned all the wrong things from all the wrong people.

He trudged down to the kitchen, Karupin in tow, to feel the cat's bowl with more food, he sighed.

Karupin meowed again, questioning.

"No, not you, Karupin." He said listlessly, and left the cat to devour her dinner.

Instead of going back to mope in his room, Ryoma went to the living room, and buried himself in the mountain of cushions. Once upon a time—because it really did seem that long ago, Tezuka would have buried himself in there with him, no matter how childish the gesture seemed to be.

Ryoma hugged a pillow tight to his chest. He wasn't sure how it had happened, but within such a short amount of time, he had grown to used to seeing less, and less of Tezuka.

It wasn't as if he was stupid, sometimes, Tezuka found things in other people that he liked that Ryoma could never muster enough courage to give. But he tried so hard, and Tezuka always seemed to push his limits more and more.

Somehow, Tezuka made Ryoma think that being seventeen wasn't all that appetizing.

But still...! Tezuka was his, damn it! He had worked long and hard to hang on his boyfriend's arm (although he had enough pride in him to admit that sometimes it was humiliating to be just put on display like that) and if anyone thought that they could so easily draw Tezuka Kunimitsu away...

Ryoma squeezed the pillow tighter, hard enough so that his knuckles went white.

--

Tezuka was...for lack of more eloquent word, a hell of a cook. Fuji nodded approving as he helped himself to a shrimp dumpling that had gong sort of lukewarm, but the taste still melted itself in his mouth, as if it was still warm. But what came out of his mouth was much more appropriate after he had swallowed.

"I never pegged you as the type that liked to cook, Tezuka-kun. This is really good."

Tezuka looked quietly pleased with himself as he poured soup from a thermos into two bowls he had brought. "I don't like it, it's a necessity, like I told you."

"Still..." Fuji smiled at him, "Give yourself some credit. You're actually good for something."

"Is sensei actually complimenting me?"

"Saa...I might be." Fuji made himself comfortable on the old blanket that they sat on, using his hands as a pillow. This was turning out to be a nice night...unfortunately? Well, it wasn't like he was sure what to think. The Tezuka that showed himself here, simply wasn't consistent with the one that had giving him hell several times in the classroom.

This Tezuka was thoughtful enough to steal a car for him (although Fuji could not say he approved.) packed him a picnic, and was almost caring and sensitive enough to ask what he thought about things.

"Would you like some soup, sensei?" Tezuka's voice cut into his thoughts.

"...Mm? Yeah, I guess." Fuji propped himself up on one elbow and reached for the bowl, but Tezuka's hand on his chest forced him back down flat on the blanket. "Tezuka-kun...?"

"It's okay, you can lie down."

"But I can't eat soup that way..."

"Of course you can, here."

For some reason, the act of Tezuka actually fishing around the basket for a spoon, and spooning soup to hold in front of Fuji's mouth made Fuji's eyes burn with a strange hotness, much like the time Yumiko had left for Austria.

He sipped the soup because he had no other choice, but his eyes as they stared up the boy...

"...Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because..." Fuji looked away, the blanket was scratchy against the skin of his cheek. "I don't know you."

The answer made Tezuka look thoughtful as he set the bowl aside with the spoon. Gently, he brushed a stray strand of hair covering Fuji's eyes and looked back down at him. Fuji thought the dark eyes wanted to tell him something, but all he could do was try not to drown in them.

"Why does it matter so much, sensei?"

Fuji hated, hated the way that Tezuka's voice sent shivers down his spine that Shiraishi's voice always failed to do. He hated the way his face burned crimson, and was grateful to the night for hiding the color in his cheeks.

"Because...it just does."

_Because if I know you, I might actually like what I see. _Even the mere prospect of something like that was frightening.

Then, as if in a dream, Fuji pulled himself up by hooking his arms securely around Tezuka's shoulders. Close up, Tezuka smelled of cologne, but no sweat, it was a pleasant scent that tickled his nose. He was sure his lips were trembling when he finally mustered enough courage to actually find Tezuka's mouth.

But Tezuka's mouth was warm, welcoming, and most of all forgiving. Although Fuji didn't know what he was been forgiven for, but if this was what falling off a cliff, away from his prison felt like...

There were clouds to catch him.

And there was Tezuka. With his forgiving (albeit eager) tongue, and open arms.

That was enough. When Fuji pulled away, Tezuka looked a little bit conflicted, but after a moment, he laid down and Fuji leaned wordlessly against his shoulder.

Though it was a darkened sky that loomed ominously above him, but Fuji had never seen brighter stars. They shone exactly like his eyes.

--

"Hello?"

As usual, Inui Sadaharu made his business to be awake at the strangest hours. Well, actually eleven wasn't all that late, but for Echizen Ryoma, who made a habit of going to sleep early because there was nothing to do, eleven was getting to be an indecent hour.

"I want you to tell me where my boyfriend is." Ryoma swallowed the waver that threatened to cut into his voice. "And don't you dare lie to me, Inui-senpai. I know that you know everything."

And the waver caught in his throat again. Even accidentally saying it...he really hadn't meant to, Ryoma realized how true it was, that Inui indeed knew everything about Tezuka, things that he wouldn't know. Ever. And Inui knew all of these things for money. Tezuka gave him money to tell him all these things.

Tezuka bought Inui's loyalty and silence. Ryoma would have given him all those things and more, had Tezuka thought to ask him first.

But of course, to Tezuka, he was a shell and a trophy.

"I can't tell you." Was the reply that Inui gave, he gave it in a monotone, like a preprogrammed robot.

Gripping the phone tighter, Ryoma hissed, the anger spilling from him apparent even in that one intake of breath, "How much did he pay you not to tell? I'll pay you more."

As if Ryoma wasn't wealthy himself. His old man was a retired tennis player, for God's sake--

"I'm not going to take your money, Ryoma."

The statement made the ends of his nerves just flare. "Why? Because _Tezuka_ told you not to?"

There was a pause. "Well...partially." Inui's voice suddenly sounded very far away on the phone. "And I told you, you're too young for these things. You'll never make him happy. And of course, like the stupid little brat you are, you refused to listen to me. Don't you say I didn't warn you."

"Are you stealing him from me?" It was entirely possible.

"Of course not." This time, Inui sounded amused, "I don't have time to keep up with all of his whims. You know that."

Ryoma fell back against the cushions. His eyes stung. "Why won't you tell me?"

Now, Inui's tone reminded Ryoma of a teacher talking to a whiny five-year-old. "...Because. I'm just not going to. It's not something you should have the privilege of hearing from me. And I don't feel like hearing you bawl over the phone. Just go to sleep."

There was a dull click.


	10. Chapter 10

**Putting Out Fires**

AU, TezukaFuji/ Fuji learns the hard way that it's probably not smart to give Tezuka detention.

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**A/N: **This was actually the chapter that made me want to write this story out in the first place. I can honestly say that this one is my favorite chapter of all times xD. Cookies n' cream ice cream to you if you can figure out who Fuji's crush was, I think it I made it more than blatantly obvious. Thanks for all the reviews and please enjoy the chapter!!

**Rating Change: **Next chapter might move up to M, I'm not sure yet. I'm just giving all of you a heads up.

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"He loves me, he says. I don't know."

Tezuka's breath was warm and tickled Fuji's naked neck. Fuji lay there, mostly content, and threaded his fingers gently through the boy's hair, over and over again, feeling the silky strands slip through his hand was addicting.

"I don't know why I did it, really." Tezuka's voice was warm, and it drew Fuji close to sleep. "I've known him a long time, and I used to look after him. The job pays well, Echizen Nanjirou was a tennis legend about twenty years back. Then he had a child and everything went downhill. It's disgusting."

"So you hate him?"

Tezuka hesitated, "No...not really. He's just a child, and I dislike children."

"You're seventeen. That's still a child." Fuji reminded him.

"But that's different." Tezuka sighed, "I've grown up, and age is a number. Ryoma's just immature. I'm only doing this as a favor to get him off my back. Inui's been suggesting that I break it off for a while."

Fuji wanted to say that Tezuka was nowhere near grown up. After all, a kid that made mature choices would hesitate before stealing a car and not sound so adamantly proud of it. A mature kid would think twice before going out with someone so underage and clueless--

Fuji winced.

But things were different for him, he told himself sternly. He was practically sucked into this whirlwind that Tezuka seem all too eager to stir up. None of this was his fault, he did nothing to instigate any of Tezuka's questionable behavior.

Fuji said, "...But he's fifteen. It's stupid."

"It's better than us." Tezuka pointed out dryly, hand settled on Fuji's stomach, "Think about it, when you started the first grade, I was barely around."

"Why are you rubbing this in my face knowing that this is totally and completely your fault?" Fuji was mildly disgusted, he thought that Tezuka would be happy once he had gotten what he wanted, but Fuji supposed it was just like Tezuka to gloat about it.

"Do you think this is stupid, then?"

For that, Fuji had no answer.

Evidently, the silence he offered pleased the boy, and Tezuka kissed his cheek. The spot where his lips lingered burned, but Fuji managed not to wince, or move. He was not going to encourage the touch, but he had to admit that he liked it enough not to discourage it, either.

And it bothered him, why he had always found Shiraishi's gesture of affection slightly repulsive.

Fuji sighed.

"Sensei?"

Honestly, Fuji thought that he himself was a rather sensible individual. Having second thoughts about a teenager who was completely influenced by hormones was not sensible at all. And besides, the teenager's name was Tezuka. He remembered Ryuzaki's warning, and he knew if he let himself fall any further...

But then that would mean that he had already fallen.

Tezuka's hand had somehow managed to slip under his shirt without him knowing, and rested warmly against his bare abdomen.

"It's my turn to ask a question."

Oh. Right. Fuji had asked him about Ryoma. To his surprise, he received an answer that was perfectly frank. Though, of course, Fuji felt that he wasn't obligated to return the favor.

"Ask." He tried his best not to sound too resigned.

"Who was the first person you've ever liked?"

The hand crept up a discreet inch, but Fuji noticed, and settled his own hand over Tezuka's, mostly to keep it from moving.

"Ever?" Fuji thought for a moment, "When I was in junior high, I thought I liked my English teacher. He was a terrible sap, though. He liked poetry and we trudged through Browning and Baudelaire, there was lots of Shakespeare. Obviously, no one did very well in his class."

"Even you?" For the first time, Tezuka sounded surprised.

"Well..." At this, Fuji trailed off, Tezuka's hand had curled around his when he wasn't paying attention. "No, not exactly, but I had an unfair advantage over everyone else. My mother is American, and she was schooled in the States. I spoke a lot of English at home when I was younger." His smile was a nostalgic one, "But I hated Shakespeare, and I didn't understand Baudelaire, it's translated from French and when you translate poetry, it's just not the same."

"But I thought that his voice made Browning the most amazing poet in the world."

"And so? What happened?"

"What do you mean, what happened?" Fuji had moved close enough to Tezuka to rest his head on his shoulder. It was nice and comforting, but Fuji had a sinking feeling that he would regret thinking that the next morning. "Nothing happened, he was twice my age, and I graduated. He wrote me a page in my yearbook. I grew out of it."

"I can't help but think you're implying something."

Was he? Fuji didn't know. His eyelids suddenly felt heavy, but they had been lying here a long time. And he had had a trying day.

Tezuka's other hand found Fuji's back and rubbed soothing circles. That made him even more sleepy.

Fuji glanced at him, "...Honestly? I don't think I would mind so much if you never grew up, Tezuka-kun."

The kiss on his forehead felt feather-light.

--

Fuji Yuuta had a secret.

Actually, it wasn't much of a secret, really, he was pretty positive that if his elder brother thought to pay attention for even a half minute, he would know. Fuji Syusuke was smart, after all. And it didn't please anyone in the prestigious Fuji family that Fuji had quit medical school in favor of teaching English in high school.

In fact, it angered everyone. And his brother knew this. So Fuji had left, and he had also forfeited any rights to a huge inheritance. Even though Yuuta had followed his brother, he was still trying to please everyone by slaving through medical school, and so his brother's share was his, if he chose to take it.

He did not.

Yuuta had met Shiraishi Kuranosuke first, before his brother ever did. He had gone to the university hospital for a eye exam because too many people had nagged him to do so (even though his eyes were fine) and Shiraishi had done his check up.

And that night, Yuuta had thought he was nice enough so he invited him home. Shiraishi became an instant hit with the entire family, even Atobe, who tried to be picky about everything and everyone. Yuuta had been very proud of the guest he had brought home.

But after finding out that Fuji was a freshman in the very same university that he was studying in, not to mention the very same major, Shiraishi Kuranosuke only had eyes for Fuji Syusuke.

Who wouldn't? Fuji Syusuke had everything, the smarts, come hither eyes, and he always got what (as well as who) he wanted.

Yuuta was happy for him, like any little brother would.

And when Fuji was excommunicated, Shiraishi followed mindlessly, like a sheep to slaughter.

The first few days of his exile, Fuji had spent in bed, reading poetry, he read everything, Browning, Baudelaire, even Shakespeare, who he hated so, so much. And when he was tired of reading, he cried on Shiraishi's lap. Yuuta had watched them with a burn that was not quite jealousy in the pit of his stomach.

He had been helplessly in love with Shiraishi then, but Yuuta supposed it was good for Fuji's sake that he never realized it.

Yuuta had met Mizuki Hajime who worked as a bartender to get by. He was only slightly older than Yuuta, and he smoked. Yuuta got used to the smoke that clung to his clothing, and even if the stink was left in the house, his brother never complained about it.

Actually, dating Mizuki had lots of downsides, but the guy was certainly nice enough (if not overly clingy) and he usually had his hands in the most inappropriate of places. It had unnerved Yuuta at first, but like everything else, he grew used to Mizuki's hand being constantly in his back pocket.

Even during a horror movie.

And it made it very hard to concentrate on the woman who was vomiting worms on the screen. Yuuta was not a big fan of horror movies, but Mizuki had insisted.

The movie cut abruptly to a drowning boy was sores all over his body. He was screamed his throat raw. Yuuta could tell that Mizuki was wholly engrossed in the film because his hand in Yuuta's own back pocket hadn't moved for a long, long while.

The doorbell rang.

Mizuki asked him, "Expecting anyone?"

Yuuta thought, "No. And I don't think aniki is either, he went out, after all. Let me check."

But when he opened the door, Yuuta's jaw dropped and shattered. Shiraishi Kuranosuke stood there, holding the most gorgeous bouquet of roses that Yuuta had ever seen. They made the flowers that Fuji had brought in earlier today look shabby. But Fuji had put them in a vase in his room.

"Hey, Yuuta, is Syusuke in?"

A bloodcurdling scream from the television made Yuuta flinch, but that wasn't the only reason.

"...He uh, went out." Yuuta said, suddenly at a loss for words, "...um, he went to the library to borrow some books for his students, I think. I'm not sure. He said he'd be a while."

"Oh, damn. I wanted to surprise him for once." Shiraishi still wore a smile, believing every word that Yuuta made up. It made Yuuta feel horrible, but of course Fuji wouldn't feel anything, even if he had known.

Shiraishi held out the roses, which Yuuta took, "You don't mind keeping these for me, would you?"

Yuuta swallowed the bile that bubbled in his throat. "Of course not, they're beautiful, and I'll tell him you came by."

"Tell him to call me."

"I will." Yuuta held the bouquet protectively in his hands, like a child who had just received a precious prize. "I'm sorry he's not home." And he was sorry, more sorry than Shiraishi would ever know.

"Don't worry about it." Shiraishi flipped a casual wave over his shoulder as he turned to go, "That's how Syusuke is, I'm used to it."

"Has anyone ever told you that you spoil him?"

Shiraishi's smile was a wry one, "You do. Constantly. Good night, Yuuta."

--

Later, after the movie was over, Yuuta hunted around in the kitchen and found an old jar. It wasn't quite a vase, but it would do. He washed it, and put the roses in, one by one. The roses were a periwinkle blue and matched his brother's eyes.

Mizuki watched him, "Yours?"

"No. Aniki's." Yuuta replied shortly, as he trimmed the last stem and plopped it in the water. It looked obnoxious on the coffee table.

"Oh."

--

Tezuka stopped the car in front of Fuji's house this time. His teacher's head lolled dangerously to one side, that Tezuka thought if his head leaned just an inch more, it would snap from his neck altogether. Fuji-sensei, he decided, was fragile that way.

Cautiously, he ran a hand through Fuji's hair, and the man stirred. Tezuka hesitated, but after a second, he decided that his hand was fine where it was. Fuji opened his eyes and smiled at him.

"I fell asleep, didn't I?"

"Aa."

"Did you carry me to the car?"

Tezuka let his fingers slip from his teacher's hair to Fuji's face, exploring the exquisite contours while the man closed his eyes again. "You were light, it was nothing."

"You're very sweet, Tezuka-kun, thank you."

Tezuka bent his head forward to receive Fuji's kiss, it was warm, pleasant, and ended too quickly.

Fuji saw him looking, "What? Disappointed?" There was an amused smile on lips slightly swollen.

"That there wasn't more." Tezuka admitted.

"Tezuka-kun is a pervert."

"Am not."

"I forget, you're a teenager."

"_Sensei_."

But the next moment, he had a warm, familiar bundle in his lap. Fuji's face grinned at him, just a whisper of an inch away. "It's really uncomfortable with the stirring wheel in the way."

Tezuka kissed him, it was sloppy and hungry, and Fuji moaned.

"I don't care."

"Of course you wouldn't." They paused for air, and then their lips melted together again. "But I'm old."

"You're not...that old."

This time, the smile that graced his perspective was a rather cryptic one. "Saa..." Fuji groped for the door handle, and before he could open the door, Tezuka put his hand over Fuji's.

"Don't go."

Fuji slid effortlessly off his lap anyway and opened the door, "Bye, Tezuka-kun, it was fun. We should do this again."

And only until Fuji was inside the house, did Tezuka drive away.

--

Yuuta liked Mizuki best when he was asleep. He genuinely liked the way that Mizuki snuggled into his lap and mumbled. And when Mizuki was asleep, he didn't have to watch a horror movie, he could watch movies that were romances set in Rome. (Atobe's influence.)

But when his brother let himself in, Yuuta barely looked at him.

"Oh, Mizuki's over?" His brother wrinkled his nose, Fuji never did approve of Mizuki because he smoked and worked at a bar.

"I didn't want to be by myself." Yuuta said stiffly, burning holes into the television. "Did you have fun with Shiraishi-san?"

Yuuta saw it, a twitch of the shoulders, but Fuji's smile gave nothing away, "Yes, it was fun. I'm going to bed. Night."

Yuuta said nothing.


	11. Chapter 11

**Putting Out Fires**

AU, TezukaFuji/ Fuji learns the hard way that it's probably not smart to give Tezuka detention.

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**A/N:** HI everyone! So this chapter is the beginning of the second part of the story and the only reason it might seem a bit fragmented is because I'm trying to set up various scenarios that have to be solved. So I meant it to read like a puzzle. I'm really sorry for neglecting my other stories, all of them are in progress, it's just this muse is functioning. Thanks for all the reviews, you guys are the best! I'm so close to 300!!

**Rating**: will go up next chapter for sure. xDDD.

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It was a rare morning that the two Fuji brothers could finally enjoy a cup of coffee together. The elder deemed himself in a good enough mood to get up just twenty minutes early, and for the younger, it was all routine. In some respects, Yuuta felt bad for disturbing the morning's peace, but what had to be done...had to be done.

"So...Shiraishi-san came by."

"When?" Fuji took a sip of coffee.

"Last night." Yuuta all but slammed down the plate of pancakes in front of his brother, "While you were supposedly with him. He brought you really nice flowers and said when you weren't so busy, you could give him a call."

"...But I was..." Fuji's face palled three shades grayer in an instant, "Last night..."

Yuuta just glared at him. "Look, aniki, I really don't know what the hell is going on with you lately. Honestly, knowing you, I don't think I want to know. But...if you don't like Shiraishi-san, the least you could do is tell him so he could move on! You're always leading him on, and he gives you everything he can! Even Atobe approves of him!"

"And since when do you listen to Atobe, Yuuta?"

"I don't. But sometimes, I think I have to agree with him that you're not sensible at all."

"_Yuuta_--" Fuji's voice rose a notch, "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours, aniki. I'm always on your side. I just really, really hate it when you lie to me." Yuuta now shifted his gaze to the table, "...Who are you seeing? I won't be mad...I love you, you know."

Fuji swallowed, hard. His head spun, he wanted out of the house. Now. He bit down into his lip hard enough to taste blood. "I'm going to be late for work."

"Aniki--"

"I don't want to talk about it." And then he fled.

--

Somehow, Fuji got to school. Somehow, he managed to find his classroom with no trouble and lock himself in. He wondered, as he slammed his head against his desk, how everything turned into such a mess. He hadn't done anything wrong, he had just gone off with a student on an off day and they had had a good time, and even if he took into account that they did make out and he honestly liked this student...

Fuji's head hurt. It had been a while since he had last had a migraine, but he guessed he was long overdue for one.

"Sensei," Said the voice of the person he most did not want to see, or hear, for that matter, "What's the matter?"

"You." Fuji said dully. He could have sworn he locked the door, but it seemed that locked doors were no match for juvenile delinquents nowadays. Especially when they were rich brats like Tezuka. "You're going to be the death of me. I just know it."

"I'm just trying to help you." Tezuka shrugged, as he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply from it. "You're just being stubborn."

"How is sort of having an affair with you helping me?" Fuji looked at him, "Please, you lost me with your logic, Tezuka-kun." he glared at the cigarette, it was certainly something to do. "Don't smoke in my room when I have class in thirty minutes, it stinks the place up. Everyone's going to think I'm smoking."

"We have to both be married for it to count as an affair. And you don't smoke." Tezuka pointed out.

"'You do. And Ryuzaki worships the ground you walk on.' Fuji said dryly, "I'd rather not take any chances. Put it out."

"She wouldn't do that."

"I don't care. Put it _out_. It makes you stink."

That earned him a sour glare, "What crawled up your arse and died?" But even as he sneered, Tezuka snuffed out the cigarette.

Fuji bit his tongue until it bled.

"Get out of my room."

"Do you plan on actually teaching today?"

"You know, Tezuka-kun..." Fuji sighed, rubbing his temples, he hadn't been away even two hours, and all he wanted to do was crawl up in bed and sleep. "Unlike you, I actually come to school to do what I'm supposed to do." He made a show of spreading out several files on his desk. "Please leave, if you'd like, we can talk later." Fuji could have slapped himself for that, he hadn't meant to say it.

A warm hand touched him on the cheek. It was familiar enough of a touch, so Fuji didn't flinch.

"But you're miserable."

"It doesn't matter how I feel. Don't touch me, people might see."

The hand was gone, and Fuji's skin prickled in protest. "I care. So we should go somewhere where people can't see. I like you when you don't put on faces." Tezuka said.

"Sometimes, I really wish you paid my salary, Tezuka-kun, I think things would become so much easier that way." Fuji was kidding, of course he was. If someone as whimsical as Tezuka Kunimitsu wrote his paychecks, Fuji was pretty sure he would be homeless within a month.

"So quit being a teacher at Seishun, I'll hire you as my personal tutor. I'll pay you whatever you want." A shrug, money was no big deal to Tezuka, Fuji knew that. Tezuka's grandfather ran a investment firm, one that was hugely successful, even Atobe admitted it.

"After all, college entrance exams are coming up, and I need to study for them. "

"I'd rather not. I like this job."

"Liar."

"Not really--"

Tezuka kissed him, and tasted intoxicating, like smoke. "Never mind, I'll talk to you later."

And as Tezuka let himself out of the still locked classroom, Fuji sworn he could have seen Echizen Ryoma's face plastered against the window. But when he blinked, Ryoma was gone...so maybe he was wrong.

At least, he hoped he was.

--

For Fuji, it was a long uneventful day even before it started. He was trudging through a Grimm fairytale with his first period class when a student walked in with an announcement, "Fuji-sensei, Principal Ryuzaki says that she has to meet with you about an emergency.

Fuji turned from the chalkboard and gaged the reaction of his students. Half of them were fast asleep, and the other half, just barely conscious, looked hopeful.

"Did she say what it was for?"

"No, but she said for you to come right away."

He sighed and put down the stub of chalk he was holding. "Fine. I'm just going to go tell Sanada-sensei to keep an eye on my class."

--

Ryuzaki Sumire wore a gray pantsuit, and red lipstick she bought twenty years too late. Her smile was a tense one, but at least there was coffee waiting for him. A neat selection of sugar, cream, and diet sweetner was also available to him. Fuji slid into the seat across from her, and said.

"I have a class to teach, Sumire-san. If you could, please make this brief."

She had opened her mouth to say something, but at his comment, she snapped it shut. Ryuzaki spread her hands on the table. "I will be, then, if you so insist." A pause, mostly for dramatic effect. "Look, I appreciate the work that you've been doing with Tezuka-kun, I really do. Even his other teachers say that he's more bearable..when he finds the inspiration to attend class..."

"So you called me in here to applaud me." Fuji took a sip of coffee, grimaced, and ripped open a packet of sugar. "Thanks but no thanks, I'm going back to my students. Maybe we could do this some other time." He got to his feet.

"Sit down, Syusuke." Her voice was hard. "I really don't know what you're doing with Tezuka-kun, but I'd like it very much, if you would keep your methods on the legal side of things."

Fuji sat, "What're you talking about?"

"Look, I'm twenty-five years strong on this job," Ryuzaki sighed, "First thing they tell you in any administrative position is not to listen to anything from an unreliable source. Given how fickle teenagers are nowadays, I'd hardly think that kids are reliable, but...this has been going on ever since you got here, and I'd just like to clear the air. You're not having...inappropriate relations with Tezuka-kun, are you?"

A long pause. Fuji lost the ability to control his facial muscles and he desperately hoped that his expression wasn't stuck between horror and puzzlement.

"Syusuke?"

A few beats late, Fuji shook himself. "That's ridiculous." Although his voice was on the verge of shaking, "I'd never do something like that--"

She cut him off, "I know you wouldn't." And Ryuzaki sounded much too relieved for her own good, "Like I said, I just wanted to clear the air with you...a startling number of people have been circulating that rumor around the halls lately. I was just...concerned."

"About who, me or Tezuka-kun?" Fuji couldn't resist the jab as he took another sip of now really sugary coffee. "If you're worried that you're going to lose your star pupil to a sexual harassment scandal, you can rest easy."

Her mouth fell open, "You--"

"May I go?"

Ryuzaki said nothing. After a couple of minutes, he drained his coffee and left anyway.

--

First period was over, and Fuji joined the aimless stream of students in the halls. The chattering suddenly seemed as loud as thunder in Fuji's ears, but he couldn't understand a single word they said. He felt dizzy, and came out of it only when he felt an awkward bump by his elbow.

Oishi, ever helpful, was there by his side, his arm was in a cast now, "Sensei, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Oshi-kun." Fuji smiled brightly, "Just a tad dizzy, I don't think I had enough coffee this morning."

"Dizzy?" The boy's brows furrowed, "Do you think you might be sick?"

"No, I'm fine." Fuji shook his head, "By the way, you haven't seen Tezuka this morning, have you?"

Oishi hesitated, "Well...yeah, I've seen him, he was hanging out near the chem labs with Ryoma...but you, umm..." He paused, obviously trying to think of a more diplomatic way to put this, found none, and blurted out: "I just...don't think you want to go over there." And then ran away.

Fuji stared after him, blinking. "What?"

No, wait, actually he did know. They were two hormonal teenagers who didn't like authority. Fuji knew well.

--

"You saw wrong." Tezuka said, as he trailed kiss after kiss down Ryoma's throat as the boy squirmed beneath him. "I've never touched him." So saying, his hand crept under Ryoma's shirt. "Why would I, if I have you?"

Echizen Ryoma was caught between a brick wall and Tezuka with his clothes half on half off. But he didn't seem too bothered, "I...I did see you guys." He protested weakly, fingers curled around the fabric of Tezuka's shirt, "I_ did_."

"And I'm telling you I never touched him." Tezuka said, tilting the boy's face up and nuzzled the corner of Ryoma's mouth, "Could you stop whining now? I like it better when you're making other noises."

"Kunimitsu--"

"You really shouldn't be doing these things in broad daylight on school grounds, Tezuka-kun, Echizen-kun. The wrong people might see you."

Tezuka's head whipped up to see none other than Fuji Syusuke leaning against the brick wall looking somewhat disgusted, and somewhat smug. Tezuka knew he had asked for it, he had made sure Oishi knew where he and Ryoma were, and exactly what they were doing.

Sensei made it easy for them, he was a prude, and he always turned up where he wasn't wanted.

"Don't you have better things to do than follow me around all day, sensei?" Tezuka pulled Ryoma closer to him, and after a brief second of looking both intimidated and uncomfortable, the younger boy somehow managed to settle on Tezuka's lap, face flushed and almost triumphant.

"Tezuka-kun, watch your attitude, or else I'll recommend your expulsion to Ryuzaki." Fuji said, vaguely wondering why he even bothered.

"She won't expel me." Tezuka settled his cheek against Ryoam's shoulder, and Fuji saw the boy flinch, "You said so yourself, she worships the ground I walk on. And besides, even if you did recommend your expulsion, she's already suspicious of you."

Fuji narrowed his eyes, "What do you mean?"

"I mean she thinks you're bending over for me." Even with his chronically expressionless face, he still managed to look proud of himself. Tezuka let one fingertip drag up Ryoma's side, because he liked seeing his teacher flinch. "That you'll do anything I want you to."

But Fuji could have told him that Ryoma was flinching too. He just shrugged, "Just for that, I'll see you in my classroom until six-thirty today."

"What for?"

"Insubordination, and truancy." Fuji said firmly as he turned, "See you then."

--

"Jerk."

Ryoma held him tight afterwards. But even as Tezuka nodded absently in agreement, his mind was already somewhere else.

"Mitsu?"

"Hm?"

"You're not....actually going to go again, are you?" Ryoma's tone was more timid than accusing, "I don't want you to go. I want you all to myself."

And the moment Tezuka kissed him to shut him up, Ryoma knew it was over.

--

Four o' clock rolled by, and Fuji was tidying up his belongings when Ryuzaki Sumire walked through the door. Unlike the meeting in the morning, she didn't even offer him a hello, only, "I hear Tezuka-kun has to serve detention with you again today, Syusuke."

Fuji busied himself scrubbing the chalkboard, it gave him an excuse not to look at her. "Yes, he is."

"You can't just give him detentions just to see if he'll show up, Sysuke. And what do I tell the tennis coach? Tezuka's attendance for the tennis club has been less than spectacular lately." If anything, Ryuzaki was exasperated, "And they do have regionals coming up fairly soon, in a month. I'd appreciate it if you'd take his prior commitments into consideration."

"So you're blaming me for his less than spectacular attendance." Fuji said dryly. "And of course it doesn't matter at all that he is an utterly insensitive, and rebellious child. Honestly, I had a better opinion of Seishun than that." He set down the eraser and finally looked at her, gaze unwavering. "I can't even properly discipline him for disorderly conduct."

"I'm telling you, Syusuke, my hands are tied."

"But my hands aren't. " Fuji smiled at her, it was a terrible smile.

"It's all right, Ryuzaki-san." Tezuka brushed past the principal and set his bookbag down on Fuji's desk atop a pile of papers, "I don't mind serving detentions with Fuji-sensei. He makes them worthwhile for me."

Ryuzaki stared at Tezuka, "Excuse me?"

"Please give my apologies to Yamato-sensei." Tezuka nodded at her, as her jaw dropped another two inches, "And I'll try not to land myself in so many detentions next time."

The principal opened her mouth, but closed it after a moment, as she could not think of anything to say.

"Yes...well, I'll tell him. But I hope the both of you are prepared to face the consequences."

--

After she was gone, Tezuka lit a cigarette and made his way over the open window by the corner. "You're going to lose your job." He said simply, looking at his teacher without really looking.

A month ago, Fuji would have seen this prospect as the end of the world. But now, it didn't really matter. He joined Tezuka by the window, but stood far enough away so that they would not touch. "You must be happy then, you can get whatever you want."

"I don't think I have you yet."

Fuji stared hard at his fingers splayed on the windowsill. "No." He said after a beat, "I guess you don't. But you have everything else that you want, don't you?" A bitter laugh escaped him then, "A grandfather that gives you whatever the hell you want, Ryoma's bending backwards for you, and Ryuzaki's even willing to fire me to placate you. You have everything, Tezuka-kun."

"Are you jealous of me?" Tezuka asked him.

"I'm..." Fuji hesitated, "...Maybe."

"Liar."

Tezuka's arms had somehow found their way around his waist without him knowing it. Fuji leaned back and inhaled the musky smell of smoke. He hated it when the stink of Mizuki was left around the house; but for Tezuka, he found that he really didn't mind so much. "That's the pot calling the kettle black."

"And why does that matter to me?"

When Tezuka's mouth found his, it was sans the cigarette and Fuji kissed back.

"It doesn't." Fuji said, thinking about how uncomfortable Echizen Ryoma had looked this morning trapped between Tezuka and the wall. And now here he was, trapped between Tezuka and the windowsill...feeling not so much. But then again, there was a lot of difference between fourteen and twenty-three.

They stayed like that for a long moment not moving.

"Are you honestly trying to be the death of me, Tezuka-kun?"

"I guess."

Fuji smiled and his fingers untangled the sloppy knot that held Tezuka's tie. Truth be told, Fuji was no expert on ties, but he could have sworn that Ryoma tied this for Tezuka without a mirror. He straightened it, and smiled, "You're not trying hard enough."


	12. Chapter 12

**Putting Out Fires**

AU, TezukaFuji/ Fuji learns the hard way that it's probably not smart to give Tezuka detention.

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**A/N:** So I was writing this chapter...but somehow it crept up to more than 4k without me knowing it. I wasn't exactly comfortable with one HUGE chapter out of nowhere, so I'm splitting up. Thanks, thanks so much for all the reviews, you guys are the best!

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"I have to admit, sensei, that was one of the most stimulating detentions I've ever served in my lifetime."

Fuji glared at him, "Shut up."

"Make me."

His lips were red from kissing, what was one more? Fuji briefly wondered where all his resolve had gone. Not so long ago, he would have wished this prat a quick and painful death, and now, he was straddled in his lap, like he actually _wanted_ him. But he...did, or did not. Right now, Fuji didn't know.

Fuji changed the subject, "It's six-forty. Shouldn't you be going?"

Tezuka looked amused, and somehow, he managed that while still not moving his lips. "I'm not in any particular hurry and I like having you on my lap."

That made his face flame, "Tezuka-kun is really a pervert."

"You've never complained about that, though."

Fuji slid reluctantly off his lap, "You're full of yourself, I'm going home."

"I have a car. I took it again today, Grandfather's not going to be back before next Thursday. If you want, I'll drive you home."

The offer was tempting. "But I rode my motorbike here."

"You can ride it home tomorrow, nothing's going to happen to it." Tezuka took his hand then, and Fuji's resolve melted once more, "Come on, sensei."

--

Tezuka held his hand the whole way and drove with one hand. They had stopped at a stoplight when his student broke the silence, "...It's too quiet. Come somewhere with me."

"Mm, like where?" Fuji bit the edge of his lip, he wasn't too keen on going home, since he and Yuuta had their disagreement. He knew from experience that his brother was going to avoid the house like the plague for the next few days. Fuji tried not to think about Yuuta crashing at Mizuki's place. He'd always questioned his brother's choice of a boyfriend, but being here like this with Tezuka made them even.

"I don't know, do you want to go to Chinatown?"

"I've never been to Chinatown." Fuji admitted, feeling very closeted all of the sudden. Shiraishi had offered to take him there more than a few times, but Fuji had always declined. Chinatown was close by, was his reasoning, and if he wanted to go, he could easily go there himself, "Is it fun?"

"They've got good food. It's cheap, and there's fireworks at midnight."

"Sounds like a classy place for a date." Fuji joked, but then regretted it the moment he said it.

Tezuka merely held his hand tighter as an answer, and at the next street, he made a U-turn.

-

As usual, Syusuke begged off on dinner. Said he was giving some kid detention, and didn't want them to wait.

Fuji Yuuta realized a couple of things, sitting here curled up on Shiraishi Kuranosuke's couch while familiar sounds of cooking came from the kitchen. He'd offered to help, but like any good gentleman, Shiraishi turned him down. Now, if it had been his older brother in the kitchen, he would have gladly accepted whatever help he could get—as long as he could worm out of it.

His brother always managed to worm his way out of everything. He wormed out of medical school, he wormed out of family obligations, and he wormed out of responsibilities.

And Yuuta had just _followed_. He had mindlessly followed his brother's selfish whims because he loved and adored Fuji Syusuke.

Sluggishly, he rolled off the couched and prodded to the kitchen. "Are you absolutely sure you can't use an extra pair of hands, Shiraishi-san?"

Shiraishi turned back to smile at him, "If you're really so insisting, I guess I can't stop you. You're a lot different from Syusuke."

Yuuta gave something that wasn't quite a snort, "Sometimes, I wish I wasn't." Hesitantly, even if he didn't agree with half the decisions Fuji made nowadays, Yuuta still wished that he was his older, smarter brother. And he wished that his brother had left some of the better genes in the pool, and not hog it all to himself.

"I don't think I'd be able to stomach two Syusukes, all at once." The older man's smile was an amused one. "In fact, sometimes I wish he was a little bit more like you."

His heart leaped, in spite of himself. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Shiraishi trailed off with a shrug, "I don't know, you're much more grounded than him, for one thing, and sometimes even I get tired of Syusuke constantly having his head in the clouds—would you mind chopping up these onions for me?"

"Oh, um, sure."

Yuuta chose a slender knife from Shiraishi's drawer and positioned himself at the cutting board. His blood boiled, a little. Shiraishi was trying so hard! Yet Fuji never seemed to see any of the sacrifices that Shiraishi made for him. In fact, Fuji even went out of his way to avoid seeing any of those things.

"Shiraishi-san?"

"Hmm?"

"When you said that you wished Aniki would be more like me...?"

For a long time, Shiraishi refused to look at him.

And when the kiss came, Yuuta's head spun, it was a soft pleading whisper against his lips and all he could do was yield. After all, he had been wondering for a while now what it was like to kiss Shiraishi Kuranosuke.

--

Inui slid the car skillfully into a parking space not meant for a car. But he always managed. He clicked off the ignition and slipped the key into his pocket. "Why do I even bother humoring you like this?"

"Because Tezuka's not the only one with money around here." Ryoma gave him a sour look, "You should know that as well as anyone."

"Yes, but most people with money wouldn't squander it the way you do." Inui looked skeptical, at best, "Seriously, though, I have better things to do than stalk your boyfriend with you. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just leave you here and go."

Echizen Ryoma had a little too much brass for his own good. He set his chin, and glared at Inui defiantly. "What? Do you want more cash?"

Inui turned away politely to cough, and roll his eyes. This kid...if Ryoma gave him compensation for every petty fit Inui threw....he was pretty sure the boy would be broke by the time they left.

It was almost too tempting.

But he shrugged instead, "Maybe that's why Tezuka doesn't like you."

--

"You seem like you come here a lot." Fuji commented aimlessly as Tezuka led him through a maze of vendors and stands. His ears were thrumming with all the noise he heard, but it was strange with Tezuka silent. Perhaps that was why Tezuka liked crowds and noise, he himself could be silent. That seemed like Tezuka—and how fitting, that Echizen Ryoma didn't know how to keep his mouth shut.

"I come here sometimes."

Fuji smiled at him, "With Echizen-kun?"

For that, Fuji got the response that Tezuka really, really wanted to roll his eyes, but for the sake of appearances, he didn't. "He...did badger me once or twice." He admitted, "I said I was busy."

"It's not fair to him, you know." Fuji said, not quite knowing why he had said it. "You're probably his first, and you don't think so, but he does love you. In the way that only children can love."

Tezuka just looked at him, "I slept with him once." He admitted quietly.

There was a pause, a pause that was perfectly still, despite an impatient shopper shoving Fuji out of the way. It only gave him an excuse to bury his head in Tezuka's chest. "Why would you tell me something like that?"

"Don't you think it's disgusting?"

"Since when do you care what I think?" If anything, Fuji sounded amused.

"Sensei, don't be like that. You're patronizing." But Tezuka's sigh was not an irritated one. He released him, "...Come on, do you like dumplings?"

"They're all right, I suppose."

Evidently, Tezuka took that as a yes, and after several twists and turns, led Fuji into a little Chinese eatery, where a nice girl in a short silk dress nodded at them. She had very red lipstick and an impeccable smile. Her voice was soft, "Hello, Tezuka."

"I brought a friend, Lian." Never one to mince words, Tezuka. Fuji almost felt proud of him.

"You can sit over there, Maya will be with you." Lian waved towards a table in the back.

They sat.

Fuji looked around. In spite of its location, the restaurant was neat, all of the waitresses looked like they stepped out of a fashion magazine, and the menus were quaint. Fuji could see why his student's inner teenager liked this place.

"Don't look at me like that, Sensei."

Fuji blinked at him, "How?"

"You look like you're thinking of me as a teenager."

"But you _are _a teenager." Briefly, Fuji traced a circle on the table, he didn't want to look at Tezuka. With a stare boring into him like that, he was too afraid that he would give away too much truth.

"But you don't mind that." Tezuka pointed out, as a waitress stopped by with two bubbling glasses.

"You're always trying to incriminate me, aren't you? What is that?"

"Alcohol, light cocktail." Returned Tezuka nonchalantly as he took a sip, "Probably nothing compared to what you're used. You went through college."

Fuji stiffened, "I wasn't a drinker in college. I was too busy studying."

Tezuka shrugged, took another sip, "Did Kura-senpai go to University with you?"

"Yes, but we hardly had classes together." Fuji watched him carefully, "Yuuta introduced us. I guess we clicked. But I'm not dating him."

"Yet you clicked." Tezuka rolled the word off his tongue like bitter venom. "Why aren't you dating him?"

It was a question he loathed, but thankfully, at the moment, it wasn't a question he had to answer because Lian stopped by their table and tapped long manicured nails in effort to get them to pay attention.

"Are you about ready to order?"

"I am." But Tezuka politely shot him a look anyway, "You?"

Fuji only took a minute to consider, "I'll have what you're having."

"Fine. Then I'll be having what I already have. Same goes for se—I mean, Fuji." With that, Tezuka handed her the menus.

Lian turned to Fuji and raised an eyebrow, "New boyfriend?"

Fuji winced, but then hid it just in time in favor of a smile. He said nothing.

The nerve of Tezuka to shrug at Lian, "Not yet, anyway."

"Good, the little one you hang around with is a parasite. I can't stand him." Lian walked away, heels clicking resolutely.

Fuji waited a bait before venturing, "I never knew you had a thing for older women too." He sampled his drink, it wasn't bad, something he could have liked in college. "Now it all makes sense."

There was a pause, a pause that snapped and broke when Tezuka sighed and looked at him.

"You're not like that to me, Sensei, and you know it."

Just the tone of Tezuka's voice made his eyes fill up. "What am I to you?"

Tezuka said: "I love you."

--

Yuuta couldn't bring himself to do it. He was lying on the couch with Shiraishi Kuranosuke practically on top of him. But even if he did want it, he could have never wanted like this. Behind his brother's back, with his brother's boyfriend. It was disgusting. It was sick. It was frightening.

He _couldn't._

And if Shiraishi Kuranosuke ever thought to exercise cruelty, he would have kept him there.

But Shiraishi was never cruel. He let Yuuta up when he lay still, and Yuuta fled for the bathroom. Turned the lock.

A moment later, there was a knock, "Yuuta?"

Yuuta turned on the faucet, "Yeah?"

"Are you sick?"

He turned off the sink and opened the door, "No. But I think..." He avoided Shiraishi's eyes, "That I should go. I'll take the bus, it's fine you don't have to drive me."

"But dinner--"

Yuuta forced himself to smile. Syusuke could always do it better, he had practice. More practice than Yuuta could have dreamed. "It's okay, maybe next time."

--

Playing babysitter, Inui Sadaharu decided, was totally not on his to-do list, now, or ever again. But even as he followed Ryoma through the maze that was Chinatown, he counted his blessings and he was thankful that his parents never thought to gift him with a sibling. Inui didn't know how he could have stood it.

He watched the boy light a cigarette. Inui vaguely wondered how a kid could have gotten the means for his vices, but then remembered that Tezuka was always happy to indulge him. Sort of.

But Ryoma was clumsy with the lighter, and he had to take a couple of long inhales before he could stop choking.

"Should you be smoking that?"

"Kunimitsu does." As if that was a viable excuse for everything. Inui resisted the urge to roll his eyes—again.

"I bet he doesn't stalk people in Chinatown." The sarcasm was more than evident in his voice. "Or if he has, he's never invited me along. Did you need me to take notes or something?"

Ryoma shot him a scathing glare, "Do you ever shut up?"

"No, not really, would you like me to?"

"Will you tell me something you know for once?"

Inui pursed his lips, "Nope."

"Fuck you."

"No thanks."

Before he could dig himself into a bigger hole, Ryoma wisely shut his mouth and stalked faster. It made for a funny walk, but Inui knew better than to laugh.

Inui himself never liked Chinatown. He preferred computer clicks to loud yelling in a language that he could barely understand. Tezuka spoke it fluently, but that was only because his grandfather ran a global business. But as far as Inui could tell, Tezuka didn't like it either. He usually just came here to eat at this Chinese place that his friend owned.

Minutes passed, and Ryoma stopped, only to barely duck a woman's purse that was in his way. He was long overdue for a growth spurt.

"Say something."

"I thought you wanted me to shut up."

Ryoma paused belatedly, "...Just about that."

But just to get on the kid's nerves, Inui didn't say anything, and just silently followed him, even when they got to the restaurant.

The restaurant was nice, it was called Chang's Dumpling House, and all the girls were crooned at Inui because Tezuka told them to—the one time that Inui had dared to venture in. The dumplings were good, though, if anything.

Though Inui did feel a little sorry for Ryoma when the boy finally spotted Tezuka and Fuji-sensei at a back table kissing. He did, in fact, promise himself a good laugh whenever this day came, but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to do it.


End file.
